


Mr. and Mrs. Smoak

by ArrowheadProductions



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friendship, Humor, Marriage, Romance, Sexual Tension, Undercover as a Couple
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-02 16:00:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 31,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5254469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArrowheadProductions/pseuds/ArrowheadProductions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver Queen has survived Lian Yu, battled the Undertaking, and defeated Slade Wilson and his army of Mirakuru soldiers. In order to infiltrate the infamous Falcone family, who near close in a gated community, Oliver must endure what may become his biggest hurdle yet: marriage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Awkward Proposal

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place somewhere before Oliver and Felicity's explosive date and after they share a bottle of wine. Yes this is a fake-marriage fic. It's also going to stay canonical.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What to do when you have to fake-marry the person you're real-life in love with?

             "I love wedding season." Felicity hummed while she gazed at her third monitor to the right. Roy stood behind her, nonchalantly glancing in that direction as if his viewing was mere happenstance. Ever since Thea broke up with him, romantic-related topics made him feel glum. However, he was willing to allow Felicity's watching of "Say Yes to the Dress" simply due to the inevitable fight that would break out between Denise and her mother. It was the most action their team would have gotten all week.

            "Don't know why she's picking spring colors for a fall wedding." He grumbled. Okay, maybe he caught a few episodes here or there. 

            "Denise is just rebelling against her mom. Besides, that's the least of her issues. Her wedding cake has unicorns on it."

            "She might as well get married at Chuck-e-cheese at this rate."

            "It's scorching hot out there." Diggle walked into the foundry, loosening his black tie. "What the hell are you two doing?"

            "Felicity's watching some wedding crap." Roy quipped.

            "Um, you were the one complaining about the lowcut dress, Harper." 

            Diggle crossed his arms and gave Roy a questionable look. "Really, man? You're that lonely?"

            "The girls are hot... Usually."

            "Well, then go turn on Bay Watch, man." 

            He snorted. "1989 is calling and you should probably pick up."

            "I remember Bay Watch." Oliver reminisced as he joined them. 

            "Didn't you hook up with the one chick from there?" Roy asked.

            Oliver glanced at the back of Felicity's head. He didn't like talking about his former sexual escapades at all, let alone in front of her. It wasn't a matter of fearing to offend or surprise her. She knew him and his old days. However, things between them were a bit different now. He couldn't quite describe how, but there was a sense of wonder and "what if" to every encounter they had. It was presumably harmless and would never happen, but it still made him feel uneasy.

            "Uh... Yeah."

            Diggle chuckled, seeming to catch Oliver's discomfort. "Sounds like Ollie did more than watch."

            Before Felicity could continue engaging in this banter, her cell phone buzzed with familiar ID that belonged to Quentin Lance. Roy and Dig silenced behind her, clearly eager to get a jump on some crime, any crime. She exhaled and stretched her fingers, ready to adamantly type at Lance's request. Their relationship with him only increased since Team Arrow worked hard at patching up the city. They did it so efficiently that there wasn't much work lying around for them.

            "We all clearly need hobbies, by the way." She moved to answer the phone and placed it on speaker for the other's to hear. "Hey, Detec-Captain! What's the haps?"

            "How do you feel about marriage?"

            "Um, I'm really flattered, Captain, but I think it's better if we just stay... Confidants? Friends? What are we-"

            "No!" Quentin barked, flushed, but he couldn't help the smile the young blonde brought to his face. Felicity Smoak had undeniable spunk and certainly wasn't afraid at teasing the likes of him. "It's about the Falcone Family."

            "What?"

            "C'mon, Smoak. I know you're not that young."

            "No, I know who the Falcone's are, but I thought they were localized to Gotham... and dead."

            "You and your buddy should know that it's very hard for people to stay dead now. Now, we have reason to believe that the Falcone's have been responsible for the deaths of various celebrities. Word is they're going by a different name and their next target is Oliver Queen."

            Felicity's eyes widened and glanced at the man in question. "Oliver?"

            "Yeah, you know him, I presume."

            She paused for a moment, forgetting that Lance didn't see the two as the same person. "Oh, yeah. I was his EA last year. Why would the Falcone's want to target him?"

            "Falcone's had some shares in QC and now that it's bankrupt and available for a new CEO, they want to acquire the entire thing."

            "I don't mean to tell you guys how to do your jobs, but how come you guys aren't putting them in cuffs as we speak?"

            "We don't have a name, but we may have a general location. I know the FBI wants to hit this, but they're moving slow and if I know the Falcone's like I do, they move fast. I think this is a job for you."

            "Me?" She laughed nervously. "I don't know if you noticed, but I am not the one hopping around in leather... at least not to save the city."

            Oliver choked behind her and when she turned around with a teasing grin, he couldn't help but chuckle.

            "I was thinking we ask Queen if he'd be willing to play bait. You see, I believe the Falcone's have been living under an alias in a gated community in Southern California called "Kirklees Gardens". If he winds up living there, the Falcone's may come out and place their attack."

            "Three questions: Isn't it going to be suspicious if Oliver suddenly moves there? Second, a Queen wedding would be pretty public, right? Wouldn't they know that? Finally, Oliver doesn't even have a girlfriend."

            Oliver looked down at Felicity quickly, who mouthed an apology at him. It was assisted by a shrug that said "I am right, though" and he couldn't stop himself from smiling at his own expense. 

            "One: Queen is a hated name right now. It would make a lot of sense if he married a woman of money and settled outside of the city. Two: No one cares about Oliver Queen right now, so now. Third: that's where you come in."

            She froze. "Oh."

            "So I'll tell him to get you a good ring?" 

            "I... uh..." She glanced to her team. Roy and Diggle seemed to be struggling to bite back laughter. Oliver looked like someone punched him in the gut and shoved him into moving traffic. He'd been struggling to keep Felicity off his mind as it was. Going on a private, undercover mission not only endangered that, but her life as well.

            Felicity straightened her back and sighed. "I guess I always figured I'd end up with a guy that was forced to marry me. Why not?"

             _"Why not? Because how am I supposed to focus on taking down one of the most infamous gangs in history when I have to act like a newlywed with you? I barely talk to you without fearing I'm crossing a line. Why are things so complicated now? Also, you look really pretty today."_

           "Great, I'll call Queen now. You know where he's living these days?"

            "Uh..." She glanced towards a cot in the corner. "I think he's sleeping around."

            "Figures."

            "Oh, and Captain? I have one more question."

            "Yeah?"

            "Why are you so interested in this case? You seem very adamant about this."

            "Because the Falcone's killed my brother, Charlie."

            When Felicity hung up the phone, she should have been babbling a mile a minute about how Lance had this unknown dead brother (even to Oliver by the looks of it) who was murdered by an organized crime family that reigned terror on the world for a period of time. Now this family was evidently back and she was going undercover with Oliver to try and determine who they are and what they look like. However, the only thing that immediately came to her mouth was potentially less appropriate than her reaction should have been.

            She looked at Oliver and directed to the floor. "I guess you better get down on one knee."


	2. Welcome to the Neighborhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity are unsure whether they just moved into the secret base for a criminal organization or typical leaders of PTA meetings. Either way, it's creepy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so tempted to make the town they "moved" to Ivytown, but I figure I'll slip a reference towards that somewhere. I don't want to taint their nice little future-home.

            "I guess this is a step up from always being the black driver." Diggle grumbled as he and Roy, dressed in mover's jumpsuits and construction boots, moved numerous boxes from the truck and into Oliver and Felicity's new "house". That's only what it would appear to be. On the inside, namely upstairs, it would become the base of operations on how to take down the Falcone family. Diggle and Roy wouldn't be allowed to stay there out of suspicion, but would visit in any way they could as family friends. As far as Lance knew, the Arrow would stop by and assist as well. Lance and other police officers were forbidden from the site as to avoid breaking cover. They were on the other line of the comm whenever Oliver or Felicity needed them to hear anything.

            "Better this than staying in a place like this." Roy grunted.

            "I think it's nice." He hummed quietly.

            "Are you kidding me? Do you hear that?" Roy paused. "Silence. Not one car, voice, or animal making a peep of noise. That's weird, man. The people here dress like they're attending the yacht club and every single house looks the same."

            "That's how gated communities work, Roy. Besides, I'm having a kid soon. I can't say moving to the suburbs hasn't crossed my mind."

            Roy was silent about that. Was it possible Diggle was thinking about leaving the team in order to pursue fatherhood? He couldn't blame him for doing so. Unlike he and Oliver and admittedly Felicity, the man had a life. He was doing everything right and deserved more than being the brute of their force. He wasn't sure how Oliver would react to that.

            Speaking of Oliver, the man looked out of his element in his khaki pants, blue button-up, and a navy sweater-vest on top. He moved quickly as Diggle handed him off boxes to take into the house. He knew Oliver was anxious about the operation for more than one reason. He wasn't just concerned for his or Felicity's lives (though he was sure it was a large part of it). He was worried this would jeopardize his hopes to never feel an ounce of emotion for another human life. Ever since the incident with Slade, Oliver made no immediate efforts to obtain another lady love, which was historically uncharacteristic of him. At first Roy thought this was Oliver just trying to stick to the mission and mope around in the idea that heroes can't have love. It wasn't until they'd had to rescue Felicity again this summer that it dawned on him that Oliver was growing mad feelings for the nerdy blonde. 

            Felicity twisted the rings that wrapped around her finger. She would have to get used to the feeling of being married, she supposed. She'd been living on her own since she was 18 and hadn't had a normal enough relationship to compare it to. The best she could do was act how the couples did on TV. She tried her best to ignore the thought that she got to act like she was in a relationship with Oliver. It was a not-so-secret fantasy she possessed since she met him. 

            "It's like we're a walking TV trope." She chuckled as Oliver joined her next to the mailbox. They gazed at their temporary home for a minute and she smoothed her vibrant sundress out of sudden self-consciousness. She turned to look at him and couldn't help her broadening smile at his apparel. 

            "What are you wearing?" She giggled. 

            "What? Why?"

            "You look like you're going for an audition for 'The Brady Bunch'. Besides, you're totally hot."

            He raised his eyebrows as she squeezed her's shut. "It's 90 degrees." She spluttered and raised a hand to her forehead. "Let's hope that dies down as the week goes on."

            He smirked at her before turning back to the moving van to chat with Diggle and Roy.

            "I think that was all the boxes." Dig commented. "You guys do know you're only going to be here for a week, right."

            "Tech is heavy." Felicity nodded. "We're going to need it."

            "Besides, we need to look like we have every intention of settling down here." Oliver added. 

            "Here come your first cons." Roy nodded behind them and Oliver and Felicity plastered on their best grins as they turned to the approaching couple. The woman was maybe ten years Felicity's senior while the man looked about eighty thousand years old. Regardless, the woman held some kind of platter in her hands. Felicity thought she resembled the perfect housewife, donning an apron and all. 

            "Howdy neighbors!" The man chirped and reached forward to shake Oliver's hand. "We're the Howard's! I'm Chet and this is Sandy."

            "It's so nice to meet you!" Sandy's voice was cheerier than Christmas tunes. "It's so nice to have new faces light up the neighborhood."

            "We're the Queen's." Oliver smiled genuinely as he shook his hand. "I'm Oliver."

            "Oh we know the infamous Oliver Queen." Chet chuckled and Oliver tried his best not to appear on guard. "What we didn't know was you were in the makes of getting hitched."

            "Oh, well. You know what they say." He began. "The perfect woman can change a man."

            "You're absolutely right. And who may this perfect woman be?"

            "I'm Felicity." She smiled politely.

            "Felicity! Beautiful name for a beautiful girl."

            Oliver wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she raised a hand to his chest affectionately. "Thank you. This is a lovely neighborhood you've got here."

            "We've got here, sweetheart. You're a part of it now, no?"

            "Oh absolutely! It's just going to take some time adjusting and what not. I've lived in Starling my entire life." She lied.

            "The hustle and bustle of the city is an awful place to raise children." Sandy clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "You made the right choice to break the cycle and live amongst the refined. We've got a great school district here and safe streets that people aren't afraid to walk on after dark."

            Probably because the Falcone's were in power. No one dared mess with their cult.

            "No kids yet." She laughed nervously.

            "Honey, his genes and yours would make the perfect baby. I can promise you that." 

            "Kids are great." Chet reminisced. "All of mine were from my first and second marriages, but it's nice to settle with someone without the stress."

            Okay, so he was probably three thousand years old. It wasn't just a rough paper out.

            "We look forward to it." Oliver answered warmly and giving Felicity a light squeeze. She didn't know how he wasn't sweating. All this body contact and she was dying being up and close to his sweater.

            "Here's a three cheese pasta dish." Sandy smiled. "Put it in the oven for 30 minutes and you'll be set for the next couple days. I assume you two have a lot of moving in to do before the big banger tonight."

            "Banger?"

            "Why everyone has a move in banger, Felicity. Didn't you read the bylaws?" 

            "I must have skipped that part."

            "Everyone has a banger in their backyard for all the neighbors to get acquainted with you. Living in this neighborhood is an intimate but thrilling experience. We wanted to get a little headstart, but cannot wait to see what you've got cooking. I warn you, I hold record for best cook in the neighborhood and intend to fight you for it." She giggled as she and Chet backed away. "See you at 7!"

            Roy turned to Diggle. "See? Too perky."

            Diggle nodded in agreement this time.

            Oliver and Felicity stood in silence for a moment, stunned and exhausted from the peppiest conversation they'd ever had to force. Now they had to have a party full of that? Also what were these bylaws that Lance ever so kindly forgot to mention.

            "We have a problem." She muttered. 

            "What's that?"

            "I can't cook."


	3. Swing Low Sweet Chariot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When their party takes an unexpected turn, Oliver and Felicity learn early on that they're willing to do whatever it takes to infiltrate this community.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit gets weird.

            Oliver and Felicity had been living together for three hours and in those three hours they learned a lot about each other. Felicity already told Oliver she couldn't cook, but he assumed she just didn't know how to cook. He soon learned the hard way that Felicity made it possible to burn water. Felicity learned that Oliver could, despite spending 5 years on a desolate island and the years before that pampered and groomed, cook extremely well. She also learned that he got very frustrated when she burned water. Oliver learned that Felicity did not appreciate being called "Rachel Wrong" (as opposed to "Rachel Ray"). She learned that she was better at decorating and cleaning. 

            It was a good thing Diggle and Roy were able to retrieve every food item that Oliver required to make his lengthy list of appetizers and desserts. Part of him wished he could have seen the sight of Diggle and Roy moving up and down the aisles, pushing a shopping cart as they bickered on whether or not to get brand-name vinaigrette or knock-off. Since the SCPD was footing the bill on all of this, Roy proudly bragged that they bought the more sophisticated brand. Oliver didn't have the heart to tell them that it didn't matter, so he went with it.

            Felicity was busy at work, finding places to hide certain video cameras and audio recorders whilst also trying her best to make the house look presentable. They may be at work, but she was not about to be written off for bad tastes by the neighbors, even if they were organized criminals that would inevitably need to be arrowed down by her "husband". 

            "They're going to be here any minute." She hurried and fixed her hair and makeup to her best ability.

            Oliver turned to his faux-wife and smiled softly at the new dress she put on. Felicity always looked good no matter what she wore, but he loved her simple, flowy sundresses the most, specifically any shade of red. He would argue that the brighter the better, but the current dim red she wore gave her a sophisticated appearance, but that she wasn't trying too hard to be liked. She never needed to.

            She was right about the sweater-vest and since then he'd untucked his shirt for a more casual look. He caught her eyeing him up and when he made a face, her face turned the color of her dress.

            "I was just admiring the fact that you took my advice."

            "I always try to." He smiled as he served every dish on their own individual plates.

            "I had no idea you could cook like this." She mused as she smiled at a set of deviled eggs.

            "I needed something to do while my parents were at business meetings all day... Before my days of screwing around heightened, that is. I would learn from the cooks in our kitchen and while I was doing it sometimes I forgot I was Oliver Queen. That's such a nice feeling."

            She was silent for a moment before deciding the right thing to say, how she truly felt. "I wouldn't forget being Oliver Queen. I happen to really like him and who he is and what he's doing to save the people of his city."

            He smiled softly at her. She could always see the best in him and it was moments like these where he could feel a warm glow overcome him. Cooking may have made him forget who he was and his worries, but spending time with Felicity Smoak reminded him why it was okay to be him and how his worries can be solved. He liked that better.

            Their thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell. Felicity scurried towards the front and opened the door to see what must have been the entire neighborhood, all dressed fairly casually and all holding gym bags.

            "Did we all just have a group workout or something?" She remarked and everyone burst into thunderous laughter. 

            Oliver joined her and gave her an odd look of "what the hell" which she returned with "I have no idea" through her tight smile.

            "You must be the Queen's! Welcome neighbors!" A tall man in his 30s chuckled. "She's a little firecracker isn't she?"

            Weird thing to say when you first meet someone.

            "That's why I love her." Oliver wrapped an arm around her waist. "Come on! We'll go out back."

            "Oh this food smells to die for." A woman in a pink blouse swooned. "Felicity, you have a gift."

            "Actually, Oliver's the cook."

            "Does he sew and clean too?" The same man with the firecracker comment smirked.

            "You obviously don't." Oliver nodded at the stain on the man's polo. For a moment he lost any trace of positive demeanor, but soon regained his composure.

             "What was your name?"

            "Hank Day. This is my wife Marie." He gestured to the woman in the pink blouse. "Sorry, we're just very ready for this get together."

            "Me too." A tall dark man in a green t-shirt sighed. "Carol and I have been having problems lately and I think we needed a jumpstart."

            The woman who was presumed to be Carol agreed. "Tim and I haven't been to one of these in a while."

            "Hanging out with friends can definitely limit stress... Or cause more of it." Felicity poured everyone a glass of wine while everyone sat down at the picnic table. She couldn't help but be impressed with herself and the setup. The tiki lights each had cameras on them as did the birdhouse, shed, porch swing, umbrella and picket fence. There was virtually no spot in the yard that wasn't covered for future evidence.

            "Then you're not doing it right." Chet laughed. "You kids are so young. Have you ever done this before?"

            "Hosted a party? I mean, sure... Elementary school days, but not much since then." She shrugged.

            Everyone grew uncomfortably silent and Chet tried his best to continue on the laughter by awkwardly chuckling. His wife took a big gulp of wine. 

            "Well, that kind of ruined the mood." A woman in her 40s with firetruck red hair grimaced. 

            Oliver furrowed his brow. "It was just a joke."

            "Kind of a sick one, don't you think?"

            "Let's let it go, Barb." Sandy patted her hand. "She is new to all of this."

            "She better hope this doesn't ruin Brian and I's good time."

            Felicity bit her lip. "I'm going to get some more wine." She moved from the table and walked into the kitchen. 

            "So..." Oliver trailed off awkwardly. After clearing his throat, he decided to revert back to the mission and get some details on these people. "Where you all from?"

            The only people that initially sparked his attention were the Delfigalo's, a staunch Roman Catholic family, who remained fairly silent even during everyone's unnecessary dismissal of Felicity's comment about parties. Neither seemed particularly interested in partying and they certainly looked like they wanted to kill every basic sap that talked about "meeting at the country club" or "going out for a soda pop" and instantly falling in love. It was all extremely sappy and Oliver didn't know whether to discredit each of them for it or grow more aware, because the Falcone's should be good at diverting suspicions. The Delfigalo's were pretty private and only spoke when asked. Both were from New York City and met at a nightclub. It was entirely possible that they were who they were looking for.

            "I think we've all had enough to eat." Hank grinned.

            "Yeah, I think we're ready to let our new friends here in on the business." Barb reached out and took Felicity's hand. "I am sorry for getting so off-put by your comment earlier."

            She shrugged. "Water under the bridge." 

            She and Oliver were growingly anxious over what they were about to be told. It was a lot sooner than planned considering their operation was week-long not six hours-long. The sooner it was over, the better that would be. He couldn't stop questioning why the Falcone's were so trusting to people they didn't know at all.

            "This could be it." Lance muttered in their ears.

            "We are in the area, ready to back you up if necessary." Diggle added.

            Oliver and Felicity exchanged a knowing look.

            "Okay, sounds great. Just give us one second though."

            "Of course. Prepare yourselves." Brian raised his glass.

            When they walked inside, Felicity bounced up and down a bit. "Okay, so we totally have them. What do you think their play is?"

            "I don't know." He shrugged and cut Lance off the line. "We need to be ready to defend ourselves if need be. I feel like they're being too open."

            "Maybe we don't give off threatening vibes. The most high-stake crime you're associated with is peeing on a cop car."

            "And when I was almost charged as the vigilante for multiple counts of murder." 

            "That too."

            "I think that Delfigalo duo are the leaders. They're silent, but they're here for one reason and one reason only."

            "To kill you."

            "Thanks."

            "I have some almost harmless explosives in my purse to use if things get rough. You can't just arrow up with Lance and the police watching over us like hawks through those cameras."

            "You carry explosives in your purse?"

            "I'm with you. I have to be bold." She wrinkled her nose. "I mean... Not "with you" with you, but ya know, beside you... a lot. I am frequently adjacent to you and constantly involved in the danger that comes with that."

            He smiled softly. "Let's go get those Falcone's."

            When they exited the screen door, it was apparent they didn't wait for them at all and in the midst of acting out their "business". Oliver and Felicity felt their jaws drop to the floor as Sandy crawled into Hank's lap, Brian made out with Marie, Chet was fornicating with Marie right on the table top, and the list went on with a bunch of other people doing wide ranges of nasty things without their respective partners.

            "So this is why they were uncomfortable with my kid-party comment." Felicity squeaked. She couldn't think of anything else to say and was uncharacteristically speechless on the matter.

            "What do you see? Are you two okay?" Diggle sounded worried over the comms.

            "Oh my God." Oliver uttered. 

            "What?" Roy jumped in. "Do you need backup."

            "Absolutely not."

            "Then what is it?"

            "They're swingers." He shook his head.

            "Come on neighbor! Join in!" Hank said as he thrust into his partner.

            "You can start out by just playing with each other. If you don't play then you're not really a part of the community."

            Oliver looked down at a red-faced Felicity. She returned the gaze and it was clear she, too, was screaming on the inside. Were they seriously going to have to have sex in order to infiltrate this crew?

            "I could still use those bombs." She muttered.

****************************************************************************************************************************************************

            They were back in the kitchen and Felicity was pacing back and forth. "This is all very rapey, right? There is nothing normal about this situation, right? I'm not being overdramatic, right?"

            "Still want to sew your oats there, Dig?" Roy chuckled and a thump could be heard over the comms.

            "Shut up."

            "You're planning on settling down?" Oliver asked. 

            "I don't know what I'm planning, but I do know you two need to come up with a plan real soon. Those people are going to grow suspicious if you aren't willing to get it on with each other when you signed up to do this shit."

            "I really need to read those damn bylaws that Lance forgot to give me." Felicity grumbled. "Next we're going to have to kill a man to fit in and then what?"

            Oliver glanced towards the shed. "Felicity, have you ever played seven minutes in heaven?"

            "Oliver, I was in the math, computer science, robotics, and scholastic decathlon clubs. Do you really think I was playing makeout games on the weekends?"

            "But you know what it is." He nodded towards the shed and a smile spread across her lips. 

            "We're going to  _Easy A_ the crap out of these people."

            "I haven't watched a movie since 2007."

            "And you're supposed to be my husband?"

            He gently took her by the arm. "Let's go."

            They stepped over the discarded clothing and tried their best to divert their attention away from the horribly rated-X sights to their left and focus it on the shed they were approaching.

            "If you guys don't mind I'm going to turn these comms off." Felicity murmured. "I don't want to scar anyone with my fake-sex noises."

            "Yeah... I'm cool with not hearing that." Lance retorted. "This is such a weird idea."

            Oliver shut the shed door and immediately went to take off his shirt.

            Felicity raised her arms. "Whoa there, buddy. As much as I appreciate the view, we aren't  _really_ playing seven minutes in heaven, right? Because I don't need any splinters-"

            "-Felicity, if anyone opens the door and we are fully clothed, then we're caught."

            "Oh... So I have to... You've never seen me..."

            "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. Me? I'm stripping down."

            "Well, I suppose you're used to it." 

            He shot her a pointed look and she shrugged. "Just saying."

            He got down into everything outside of a pair of boxers and threw his other clothes on various pieces of equipment to paint the picture of haphazardness. After a moment, she made her decision as well and stepped out of her sundress and messed with her hair to create dishevelment. He tried his best to keep himself from staring at her, having never seen her this exposed before. He could tell she was self-conscious and he wanted to tell her there was no need to be. Hell, he wanted to show her there was no need to be. He had to start thinking about repulsive topics now.

            As he began to mentally recite the topics of foot fungus, incest, and dead puppies, he approached her, placing an arm at each side of her. He took her in his arms and began thumping her against the door as gently as possible as if they were thrusting. Felicity didn't make any noises at first, because it felt like they were gently rocking back and forth. His hot skin felt good against her an even though they weren't actually doing anything, her blood pressure had spiked up.

            "Give me a hickey." She whispered.

            "What?"

            "I need something to show them."

            Oliver didn't question it and she decided to pretend the moan that escaped her lips was fake when his mouth landed on the crook over her neck. She hit her first against the shed door, relishing in how good stubble felt against her skin. He was trying so hard not to cross any real boundaries with her, and had to tell himself her noises were fake. His hands gripped the handles of the shed and increased the speed he shook it. 

            Was it bad how turned on she was by all of this? To keep herself from getting into it, she had to remind herself that there were a bunch of weirdos outside actually having sex in their backyard. However, her crush on Oliver was burning through her chest right now. Every victim of a simple crush's dream was to be up close and personal with their admired one. His strong muscles held her close while his mouth worked on her neck. She didn't quite know where to keep her hands and accidentally rubbed up against his... yeah, which to her secret delight, wasn't exactly down for the count. A groan elicited from his throat and she could feel her knees melting.

            This was all an act. This was all an act. This was all a  _very hot part_ of an act. _  
_

            "I'm going to pick you up." He breathed, his dark eyes meeting her's. "Is that okay?"

            "Yeah." She swallowed thickly as she really wanted to kiss him. She always wanted to kiss him, but never considered herself as someone on the receiving end of such an act with him. It wasn't until he told her he loved her to fool Slade did she start to develop that hope. It was minuscule at first, too. She just told herself that he was trying to save the city. Laurel was who he loved. However, as the summer went on and they began doing this flirty dance, where he would touch her or linger on her and she would catch him or likewise. Then there was the whole business of being kidnapped by Brother Blood and how adamant Oliver was about saving her and getting her that bottle of wine. They drank a lot that night and it was the first time she'd ever seen him drunk. He told her when he and Isabel Rochev hooked up, he called Felicity's name out in bed. She'd never tell him, but it certainly made her think. 

            Her thoughts went blank as he stuck an arm under each leg and hoisted her up with ease. Her back was stick against the door and he nodded at her to make noise. She began rocking up against him vigorously so that the shed was essentially shaking. It just so happened her clothed heat was rubbing up against his eager and also clothed member. Oliver gasped and tried to make it sound like it was for theatrics.

            "Scratch me." He gritted.

            "What?"

            "You're not the only one who needs something to show."

            She nodded and gripped his shoulders tightly and dug her nails into his skin. She moaned and groaned louder as she increased her pace against the shed and him and Oliver continued to deliver convincing noises as well, most of which included calling her name out. That brought her back to him calling her name out while having sex with Isabel. For some reason, this intensified everything and it wasn't long before she realized that she wasn't necessarily faking a lot of this anymore. Her hips urgently rocked against him, seeking the pleasure she thought she'd been faking while simultaneously shaking the shed. Her nails scraped along where she knew to be his dragon tattoo and when this happened, he pressed closer to her and pushed her higher against the door. She made sure her breathing was loud and her calls of his name heightened as she began to see a white light. As she chased her high, she let out one final and loud moan. 

            When Oliver let her down, she did her best to shield how sated she was from orgasming for the first time in what felt like forever. He quickly turned around and tugged pants on to hide his own excitement about the matter. She messily tugged her dress back on and they avoided eye contact as they left the shed. Everyone else was finished as well. Chet threw Oliver a thumbs up, to which Oliver winked at in order to preserve the act. It seemed to have worked, because the ladies were all going gaga over the hickey on Felicity's neck whereas the gentlemen were set on talking about Felicity's nail-marks in Oliver's back.

            When the party was all over and everyone left, Felicity turned to Oliver. 

            "Let's put it this way: there's a camera in the shed. Looks like we just made a weird sex tape."


	4. Protect the Homefront

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whether it be the transition from noisy city to quiet suburbs, awkwardness of living with someone new, or the nearly traumatizing sex party they experienced earlier, the fake newlyweds can't sleep.

            Surprisingly after the eventful evening they just had, aside from some redirecting of plans with Diggle and Roy, Oliver and Felicity didn't do much talking. They just cleaned up and awkwardly decided on the sleeping arrangements.

            "We could share the bed." She blurted out.

            His head shot up and his eyes locked hers intensely, so much so that it took her a moment to realize how utterly wrong her phrasing was. What else was new? She was beginning to think they were going to need to start a kickstart foundation to find someone that can actually connect the words that come from her mouth to her brain. Then again, her brain could be rather scattered. How do people carry conversations with her and not want to zipper her mouth shut?

            "We could alternate every night." She hastily substituted. "Tonight I could take the bed or likewise and then we switch off."

            "I'll take the couch the entire time." Oliver nodded and began to pad in that direction. 

            "Oli-"

            "-Felicity, I've slept on dirt, tree branches, cave floors, and sometimes upright. I think I can handle the couch."

            "When I was a brownie, I fell asleep on an ant farm and got a bunch of bites up my back. Didn't even wake up."

            He snorted. "Goodnight, Felicity."

            "I'm just saying, _Lord of the Flies_ , I've seen some stuff too." She joked as she made her way towards the bedroom. She didn't see the way he watched her as she crossed the hall and gently shut the door behind her, a faint smile never leaving his lips. Today was weird, but it was certainly something to think about. He knew she got into their little act as well and part of him feared that they wouldn't be able to control themselves. The other part of him wasn't scared at all. That part of him wanted something like that to actually happen. No barriers. 

            Felicity leaned against the bedroom door and tilted her head back. God, who would have thought their neighbors would be swingers? Who would have thought she and Oliver would have  _neighbors_ together? Then again, who would have thought she would have to fake having sex with Oliver in a shed in order to convince their neighbors they were just as kinky as them? That was both confusing and even though it wasn't without its benefits, a week ago-Felicity would have laughed her ass off at the scenario. As she should. Everything was ridiculous.

            She walked over to the mirror and glanced at her neck. It was tender to the touch, but it made her chest swell. She had residual beard burn for about an hour after the contact and though she heard friends complain about it, she didn't have much to say against it. The idea of Oliver being that close to her sent a shiver down her spine. Before when she would even ponder such a thought, it was ridiculous and innocent. Now, things were murky in that department. They weren't going to talk about it, because that's not Oliver, but she would always wonder.

            Both got ready and climbed into their respective sleeping locations, staring at the ceiling in pin-drop silence. Each could have sworn they were exhausted merely minutes ago, but now as they lie seemingly ready for slumber, their subconscious decided to come alive and determined. The clock read 12:03am and each minute seemed to drag on like hours. There was no light that glimmered through the windows outside of a singular streetlight across the street. Not even crickets dared to break the deafening silence that entranced the entire community. They were sure that if anyone was a snorer, they could tell. 

            After about thirty minutes and countless tossing and turning, Felicity groaned and reached for her phone. She never had problems falling asleep, which was fairly impressive considering the horrors she's witnessed in the past two years. Maybe her strifes exhausted her to the bone and worked as sleeping pills. The complete absence of sound set every nerve in her body on edge. She felt her one hand gripped her comforter as she moved to the message app on her phone. Before she could construct any kind of distraction text, she heard a thump downstairs. 

            She sat up and waited a moment, trying to make sure her ears weren't deceiving her in a way to cater to her worst fears. She hadn't even thought that thoroughly about Oliver being a target. She'd been avoiding that topic by drowning it out in the insanity that was this whole charade. In her mind, she was playing house with a slight risk. Why did she think it was even a remotely good idea to leave him vulnerable and ready for a beat down? She knew he was more than capable of defending himself and that she would probably inhibit his defense mechanisms, but she didn't feel safe with him down there alone. 

            What if they realized they were faking? Her sex noises were real dammit. Unattractive, yes, but REAL. No. Their operation would not be destroyed because Felicity made awful sex sounds that weren't believable enough for their murderous neighbors. 

            If someone broke in there would be more noise, right? There would be crashing and smashing and most likely clashing, right? Right.

            Then again, the Falcone's were the reigning champions of organized crime since the 1930s. If they could remain hidden for the past 15 years almost completely untraced, surely they would adopt more silent methods. If they wanted someone dead, they definitely knew clean ways to accomplish such a task. Oliver might not stand a fighting chance.

            No, Oliver could beat anyone. He was like a samurai without the swords. She bet she could use swords if he wanted to.

            CRASH.

            She could feel herself throwing all the covers aside, reaching for the first potential weapon at her disposal and running without sureness of what she grabbed nor a plan to follow with it. Her heart was pounding through her chest and she prayed she wasn't making the noise of an elephant barreling down a creaky hallway. The element of surprise was the only potential thing she had going for her and even that wouldn't be enough to take down a series of trained criminals. If Oliver was down, she would instantly follow. That didn't seem to matter to her as she leapt down the stairs and swung her purple umbrella like a madman. It was hard to determine if she was taking a defensive stance or doing a rain dance, because it was honestly hard to say.

            Her attack was interrupted by the crippling pain of glass making contact with her foot. Her knees buckled and she leaned backwards so she was planted on the bottom step. She winced as she looked at the large shard of glass that was currently protruding from her skin.

            "Felicity!" Her neck snapped to her right to see an unscathed Oliver holding a broom and dustpan. 

            "Shit. Ow. Shit. Ow." 

            He moved towards her, magically avoiding all remaining traces of glass along with her blood, and slipped one arm under her knees and the other around her back. In a swift movement, he pulled her up and into his arms bridal style. She always marveled at how he picked her or any other normal sized human up with such ease. On any normal occasion, she would swoon at this idea, but her foot was throbbing in sharp pain. She felt like a wounded puppy that accidentally stepped on a mousetrap. 

            He placed her on the couch. "Stay put." 

            As if she was going to go off on a jog while he got bandages. 

            When he returned, he came back with a familiar kit. Felicity sewed Oliver up in the past two years more than she did clothing in her entire life. The thing was, she was never sewed together by him. Sara did it that one time when she had to get down into her bra, but she was drugged and Oliver faced the other way. She had faith he could do it judging by his own scars, but she was still nervous. Even so, her foot was killing her.

            "Let me see." He gently reached out and took her small feet in his large hands and set it on his lap, which had a warm towel on top. She was trying to hold in too many tears, but failed and outwardly sniffled. His eyes met hers. Unlike earlier, they weren't piercing but soft. They were the kind of blue they use to advertise baby blankets for newborn boys. 

            "It's not that bad."

            "Real "not that bad" or your version that means I'm not exactly dying, but I might need my foot cut off."

            He laughed, eyes shining. "You're not even going to need stitches, how about that?"

            "Oh, well that doesn't sound bad at all."

            "You're lucky it's just a flesh wound. Had it gone deeper it would have struck an artery and if you moved you would have bled out in minutes."

            "See when you say things like that? Not so comforting."

            He stroked her pajama-clad shin gently, warm hands radiating her chilled being and moved to prepare tweezers to remove the glass. "I would never let that happen."

            She bit her lip as he gently took the bit of glass from her wound, refusing to look at the injury.

            "I thought you were a deep sleeper." Oliver was apparently a lot chattier while performing minor surgery than when they just partook in a swinger's party in a shed. She was fairly sure he was concerned how far they would actually have to go undercover. Day one and they were already supposed to be having group sex. They were lucky the others bought their little act and that they accepted a secluded location. Now they would have to plan around this weirdness. Still, it was worth talking about.

            "Hm?"

            "You said you fell asleep on an anthill and obtained a large amount of bites up your back. You didn't wake up once." He never took his eye off her foot as he began to pour alcohol on a cotton ball.

            She smirked. "Oh yeah. Well, that's 100% true. To be a deep sleeper however, one has to fall asleep."

            "You couldn't sleep either?"

            "Nope. This place is so quiet and we literally witnessed some strange pornographic stuff today. Hell, we acted out a PG-13 porno. Not only that, but I had the thought that we are not surrounded by kinkyboots neighbors. We're surrounded by kinkyboots, murderous, maniacal neighbors. Then, I heard a thump, which I thought was just budding anxiety and then there was the crash. Here we are now." She gestured to Oliver now dabbing the cotton balls with ease against her damaged skin.

            "I couldn't sleep either. I haven't been good at sleeping since the island. Actually, I'm not even sure if I was a great sleeper pre-island either, because I was always drugged or drunk every night. It's never been my thing. Anyway, I sort of threw in the towel on sleep and went to get a snack, knocking the remote of the couch-"

            "-thump." 

            "And accidentally banged into the glass bowl on the table in the hallway."

            "Crash."

            "I'm sorry I scared you." He looked into her eyes for the first time in a little while, earnestly apologizing to the point where she forgot her foot hurt.

            "I was just afraid they got you." It came out as more of a whisper than an open statement, but by the way his ears perked up and the concern in his gaze deepened.

            Oliver paused from unravelling the gauze and leaned forward to take her hands in his. Felicity was the smartest woman he ever knew, but she was willing to foolishly barrel down the stairs and walk through glass for his potential safety. He didn't know whether to be worried for her judgment or touched by her concern for him. She's walked alongside him this entire time, risks be damned, and he couldn't accomplish any of it without her aid. At what point did he deserve someone like that in his life? He didn't ask aloud, because he knew she would repute such a statement with how he always deserved happiness and people in his life who cared about him. He didn't ask, because he knew if she responded like that he would kiss her.

            "Nothing's going to happen to me here."

            "You can't promise that. You're stuck here with me, who's practically defenseless, mind you. I mean, Dig taught me a few things on how to protect myself if I'm getting attacked by a mugger or something. I certainly can't do anything if a bunch of guys with guns come breaking down the door."

            He sighed. "I can take gunmen, Felicity. I promise you that if I felt this mission was high-risk dangerous for you, that this house wasn't safe then I would never let you be a part of this."

            "You're not quite as cautious with yourself, Oliver, and as touched as I am that you care about me, you know I would still make you take me if it was the best chance possible to catch these guys."

            "I know."

            "And I wish you were, cautious with yourself, that is. Sometimes I feel like you're so trigger happy and eager to sacrifice yourself and everything you've worked for in order to protect the greater good."

            "That's what I was taught it took to be a hero, to sacrifice everything."

            "No, that's being a martyr." She sighed as he began wrapping her foot with tender care. "A hero lives his life in a way that inspires others in all ways. He isn't afraid to live, to continue the fight, to love."

            "You should have a seminar that trains superheroes." Oliver smiled.

            "Just promise me you'll be more careful and I'll consider it."

            "With glass bowls?"

            "Oliver."

            "Hey, I promise." He pinned the bandage shut and admired his work before meeting her gaze. "If it's you asking, I'll do my best to do it."

            "Thank you." It was satisfying coming out of a debate even slightly victorious.

            "I always liked the different colors of your nails. I didn't know you did it to your toes too."

            "You do? You never say anything."

            He snorted as he moved her leg to the coffee table for support. "If I complimented you on your nails whilst training with Diggle and Roy they would ask me when I was going to get some for my own."

            "Oh brother. Men are so weird."

            "I'm not the one who's weapon of choice is a purple umbrella."

            "Buuuut a bow and arrow?"

            "I've been told it's a major turn on for Robin Hood enthusiasts. I've also had some fan letters from teenage girls that like those movies the... Starving Games?"

            " _Hunger Games._ We are seriously going to have to develop a queue for you. This week, I'm going to make a list of all the important movies from 2007 to present day that you should have seen. You know what? I'll extend it to TV shows. If you're not watching movies you're definitely not watching TV and that's just pathetic."

            "Divorce worthy?"

            "Oh definitely."

            He let out a mock sigh. "Well, I don't really want to have to split my HUGE trust fund down the middle considering we didn't get a pre-nup. I guess I'll watch buy into your list."

            She clapped her hands. "Yay!"

            "IF."

            "Oh boy."

            "If you let me train you more in self defense. I don't feel right about you feeling defenseless. I need you safe."

            Her eyes grew soft. "Okay. Watch out, though. There could be a new vigilante on the streets when you're done with me."

            "We'll call you "The Purple Umbrella". Mirakuru soldiers better look out." He chuckled.

            "Again. Bow and Arrow."

            "You love it."

            "It's... innovative."

            The remainder of the early hours of the new day were quite the contrast to how they were the night before. It was one of those conversations where every sentence seemed to meld perfectly into each other, never stopping for a dull moment, because there was too much to say. Both were so incredibly lost in the eager flow of speech, swapping stories that they never shared to anyone in their lives. It wasn't all light and love. Oliver revealed some of the scarier parts of himself while Felicity carefully listened. She gave some insight to her situation growing up, talking about how hard it was for her and her mom, which kind of damaged her ability to trust people. Oliver knew he wanted to find her dad and beat some sense into him. Who could ever abandon Felicity Smoak?

            Oliver made sure he memorized the way her nose wrinkled and dimples appeared every time she giggled at one of his ridiculous pre-island anecdotes or how her eyebrows wrinkled together in concern at his island tales. Never judgement passed between them. It was free moving words that only increased the warmth each felt for each other. Neither remembered laughing so much in the past couple years. Time was a construct that didn't exist in their own bubble.

            Oliver lazily laid on the floor adjacent to Felicity, who was sprawled out on the couch, her hand dangling off the edge, mindlessly daring him to take it. Both stared at the ceiling not in fear or boredom, but contentment.

            "How are we going to explain your foot?"

            "Hmm... You think they'd buy an S&M story?"

            "They could... Or they could call in and report domestic abuse."

            She laughed. "I can picture the headline. "Oliver Queen slices new-wife, Felicity Smoak, with shard of glass in attempt at weird sex game." Can I tell you how fast my mother would be over here?"

            "To kick my ass?"

            "No, to kick mine for not inviting her to the wedding and then she would probably congratulate me for following in her footsteps in having an interesting sex life."

            "Your mom sounds cool."

            "She stayed."

            "Felicity?"

            "Yeah?"

            "When I was 21, I got a girl pregnant."

            She sat up immediately. He was still staring straight ahead into a void he created before his line of vision. It was clear he was going to elaborate on his own time, but her head was exploding with a million questions. 

            "I was still with Laurel. I never told her, because I was scummy. I am scummy. Of course I freaked out, but then she called me and told me she lost the baby. I thought I was really happy about it but..." He fell silent for a little.

            "But what?" she encouraged lightly.

            "I wasn't ready to be a dad, you know? I was supposed to be with Laurel. Laurel was my supposed soulmate. My mom knew that and I... I feel like she did something... It was all a bit convenient." 

            "Do you think your uh... Baby mama lied?"

            "I think she paid her to get an abortion. I know she accepted it. I thought about this a lot while I was on the island and even when I returned. At one point I tried to get in contact with her, but I couldn't find her anywhere. I guess she fled town."

            "Do you want me to find her?"

            "I don't think so. I feel like that would bring back a lot of bad memories for her. I was immature and childish about the whole thing while she was probably really scared. I just... You didn't have a dad growing up and he's a shitty person for leaving you and your mom. I don't want you to... you know think that of me."

            "Oliver." Her voice was soft and stern. She moved off the couch and onto the floor pressed up against him, carefully avoiding knocking about her bandaged foot. Their faces were inches apart and she poked a finger into the soft cotton of his t-shirt. "You're a great person."

            "But-"

            "-No. Just because you were kind of a douche in your younger years doesn't mean you deserved what you went through on Lian Yu. And regardless of what you did on Lian Yu, who you had to become in order to survive, you were still so brave. I know you've seen more than I ever will in a lifetime and maybe I can't speak for those who you lost in that time or the pieces of your soul you broke in order to make it, but I promise you're a good person. If I didn't think so, I wouldn't be fake married to you right now."

            He smiled softly. "In a sense, all of that was kind of worth it. Had I not gone through with all that, I never would have got to see you in these fluffy cupcake pajamas."

            "I have been told they're life changing." 

            After some more somewhat coherent banter, both fell asleep at the same time the sun began creeping over the horizon and through their windows. Neither bothered with it and semi-regrettably remained on the floor. Somewhere along the course of the next series of hours, Felicity automatically buried her face in the crook of his neck as Oliver subconsciously wrapped a strong arm around her. It was better they stayed downstairs anyway. The silent promise of protecting each other still hung in the air and wasn't about to go away anytime soon.

            Besides, it just felt right. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More mellow than the previous chapter. I like the idea of them staying up all through the wee hours of the night to talk things out and REALLY get to know each other.


	5. Party Crashers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Galas are supposed to be made to host benefits for needy causes, but for Oliver and Felicity, it's all about honing in on specific suspects. However, nothing goes as planned.

            "I have to say, the outlets here have little to nothing in the dress department, which is weird considering how high end this place can be. Did you see the Delfigalo's jewelry? That is not the kind of stuff you get off craigslist." Felicity babbled about as she struggled to get dressed and ready for the gala they were attending tonight. Oliver offered to help her being that he imagined getting in a gown with a bum foot wasn't going to be an easy task, but she bashfully declined. She intended on keeping a little bit of a boundary between them if not for her own dignity. The second he laid eyes on her, she would turn as red as the lipstick she moved across her lips. Then she would inevitably say something stupid and the air would feel thick for hours.

            A soft knock came at the bathroom door.

            "Come in." She was just placing her earrings in her hair as he walked in the steamy bathroom, donning a crisp tuxedo. Oliver Queen looked amazing in just about anything. He was a walking fantasy. He wore copious amounts of leather, Bond-worthy tuxedos and suits, and frequented the act of walking around with little to nothing at all. Earlier that morning when she awoke from their rough night on the floor (not nearly as dirty as it sounded), she limped upstairs and bumped into him when he was just getting out of the shower. Holy God. Oliver  dripping with small pebbles of water with only a towel wrapped around his waist, every muscle outlined to perfection from his glistening skin. Out loud, she blamed her stupidity on being groggy, but in reality she was fairly sure she'd never been more awake in her entire life.

            "Felicity, Roy just--" He paused as he looked at her in the mirror, taking in her full appearance. He let out a soft puff of air as his eyes glazed over her beautiful red gown that flowed seemingly endlessly around her figure. He must have been staring, because she turned from the counter and met his eyes directly, but he could only be bothered with the shiny ruby lipstick that coated her full lips. He felt himself swallow thickly.

            "Uh... Roy just called and he said he and Dig were overlooking the footage from yesterday-"

            She winced. "That makes me uncomfortable."

            "... Not that part. I erased that part of the tape."

            "You are a good man." She pointed at him before turning to fix her perfectly tied hair. In the bright lighting, it reminded him of fields of golden wheat and looked as soft as silk. The vision of running his fingers through it overtook him for a moment and he found himself clearing his throat to snap back on track. She was going to start thinking he was brain dead if he kept it up.

            "They said the Delfigalo's left early. We went inside and they silently got up and left the second the sex games began."

            "They were awfully quiet during dinner... Maybe all this isn't there thing."

            "That's what I was thinking, but Lance said the Delfigalo's are the longest living residents here. They're chairmen of 95% of the activities and run a good portion of the events. Apparently they have major pull in this town."

            "Plus, they were the only ones there that were Italian." She added. "Not that that necessarily means anything, but the Falcone's are notorious for being a tough-blooded, tight Italian group of mobsters."

            "I think we should definitely keep an eye on them tonight. I'm going to try and get close."

            "No!" She placed a hand on his chest, trying to avoid concentrating on how hard his chest was. "Oliver, they're targeting you. Let me get close. I'm sure I can win over the wife."

            He seemed to think about that for a moment and shook his head. " don't like the idea of leaving you alone with them. They haven't been afraid to hold loved ones as hostages before."

            "Well, they only  _think_ I'm your wife. So maybe that'll be a good trap."

            "I won't risk it." And it seemed she was not going to win this one. "I'll compromise and we can do it together."

            She stuck out her hand. "Deal. No high speed chases tonight, though. I can't run."

            He smiled as he took her hand. "I can always carry you."

*******************************************************************************************************************************************************

            "Oh, don't you two look absolutely stunning." A now quite posh Sandy greeted them at the door. "Remember when we were that young and beautiful, Chet?"

            "Pretty sure Chet hasn't been young since the Civil War." Roy muttered over the comms. 

            "I sure do, my darling. Oliver, you clean up well, sport! Nights like these really get the ladies going. Creates some kind of "Cinderella" fantasy in their heads. They can't say no to that."

            "Oh God, this is going to be another sex party, isn't it?" Diggle groaned. "What is wrong with these people?"

            "It could be worse. They could be furries." Roy mused. "Silver linings."

            Oliver shook Chet's hand but kept his other hand on the small of Felicity's back. "This is quite the party. What's it for, exactly?"

            "The Delfigalo's are big on gala's and charity. This weeks is going towards starving kids in Africa."

            "Awe, that's so sweet." Felicity beamed. "What's the name of the organization? I'm always looking for a new foundation to sponsor."

            "Oh, you saint. I knew I liked you!" Sandy giggled. "I think it's called "Biscuits for Babies". It's a self-made foundation. The Delfigalo's have so much money and almost nothing to do with it, so they choose to spend it on the less fortunate. All profits from this event, including the bar tab, is going over there. Isn't that wonderful?"

            "I think I'm going to make my own personal donation right now." Oliver nodded at the bar. "Do you want anything, hon?"

            Felicity paused for a moment, taking a moment to realize he was referring to her. "Oh! Yeah uh--"

            "--Chet, baby, can you get me my usual?" Sandy patted his suede jacket. She turned her direction back to Felicity as if daring her that she didn't know her husband as well as Sandy knew Chet. 

            "My usual is good too." Felicity wrinkled her nose and poked his chest. "Sweetiepie."

            Oliver's eyes widened for a moment and when neither Chet nor Sandy were looking, he shot Felicity a questioning look that she returned with a small shrug. He knew she loved wine. Maybe that was a safe bet.

            "Don't you just love knowing someone so well? I don't know what I did before I was married. It's like I was this completely different and incomplete person. I didn't know that then, of course, but now I feel like a full circle. He's my happiness."

            "I was happy before I met Oliver." Felicity was not the kind of woman to have a man be her entire existence. No ma'am. She wasn't going to lose sight of that even for an act. "I'm happier and better now, but being married hasn't changed me all that much. I feel like an independent woman alongside an independent man going the same path and doing it together."

            "Honey, when you've been married as long as we have, you'll forget where you end and he begins."

            "How long have you been married?"

            "Oh about 15 years."

            "You were young when you got married then."

            "Chet swept me off my feet and took me to this place. He said his family was relocating here and he wanted me to be a part of it."

            "His family, huh." She mused.

            "Now where are you from?"

            "I'm from Las Vegas, but I moved to Starling after college in Massachusetts. Now we're here. I guess I wanted to get away from how hectic everything was in those other places. Vegas is... Vegas, Massachusetts has crazy snow and people, and Starling is just around the clock terrorist attacks at this point. It's crazy."

            "It's amazing you two survived. Were you in the city when it happened?"

            "The Undertaking or the Mirakuru Soldiers?"

            "Why, both. Both, of course."

            "I was there. I worked for Queen Consolidated so I wasn't in a dangerous part of the--"

            "So  _that's_ how you two met. You worked for him."

            If by worked for him, she meant secretly performing covert tasks involving bullet-cladded laptops, bloody arrows, and vertigo vials that he clumsily attempted to lie and cover up. Or did she mean finding him bleeding in the back of her car? 

            "Yeah, we met at the office."

            "I never imagined hot, billionaire, bad-boy, Oliver Queen to ever settle down. Especially not with someone so, and I mean no offense by this, average." 

            "You have a lot of guts, lady. Just how many face-lifts have you gotten in the past year? Fifty?" Roy's voice echoed through her ears.

            Felicity chuckled (mostly at Roy's comment) and then grew more serious. "I know it may sound cliche, but I know him better than almost anyone and I can assure you that he really is an amazing guy. He doesn't allow many people to see that side of him, because he's afraid to be vulnerable considering all he's lost. In not even a decade's time, he's lost his father, five years of his life and sanity, his best friend, his mother, and now his company and home. And still, he wants to do so much good. He's the bravest person I've ever met."

            And Sandy doesn't have much to say about that, because Felicity was being wholeheartedly honest. Not that she was lying before, but there was a certain levity to her voice that was so sure and completely absent of doubt. No one could argue with her, because she sounded like someone with a strong unspoken argument behind her words.

            Oliver and Chet returned. Oliver, holding a glass of red wine for Felicity and a beer for himself and Chet held just a shot of patron. 

            "Chet, where's my drink?" Sandy barked.

            "Woman, do I look like a freshly whipped dog?"

            "You douchebag." She chucked her studded purse at his head and then turned to Felicity. "Don't get used to the honeymoon phase. They turn into dicks after you stop going to bed naked."

            "So you admit, it's your fault for not going to bed naked." He called after her. "Help me out here, Oliver."

            "I told you to grab her drink, Chet."

            He waved him off. "You're no fun. Guess I better go after her, huh?"

            Felicity gingerly took the drink from Oliver and leaned against him. 

            "How's your foot?"

            "I'm alive." She smirked as she took a swig from her glass. "Chet say anything weird?"

            "Does Chet say anything normal... Ever?" Dig countered. "That dude has more analogies for anal than anyone I've ever met."

            "Yeah, the man really likes butts." Roy agreed.

            "In addition to the many comparisons to Sandy and other women's asses, he did mention that he has longstanding family here."

            "Yeah, they've been here about 15 years." Felicity nodded. "Did you know they have separate bank accounts... Like they're not integrated at all. Chet has a lot more money in his than Sandy does in her's. They never overlap either. No money coming in or out from checks. It's all be deposited through an anonymous Paypal email address." 

            "We could be completely not-broke if Felicity would just use her powers for evil." Roy zoomed in on a part of the screen. "By the way, your mobster power couple is approaching your left."

            "Felicity, Oliver, glad you could make it." Mr. Delfigalo wore a white suit with a black tie. They were pretty sure they never heard the man speak before. His voice sounded like he had chewing tobacco in his lips. Mr. Delfigalo was a short and stocky man with a bit of beer gut that protruded over his belt. His eyes were as black as his hair and he had a thin scar across his eye. Felicity couldn't help but think about how much he looked like a villain during the temperance movement of the 1920s. His wife reminded him of one of the wives from  _Mad Men_ only extremely Italian. She was about 20 years younger than Mr. Delfigalo and her engagement ring looked like it could break Felicity's finger from weight.

            "I'm Alfonso and this is my beautiful wife, Francesca."

            "Pleasure." She shook both of their hands. "I see you've become close with the Howard's."

            "Uh... They've been friendly."

            "They're the kind of lovers that like to pretend they're king and queen of the castle, but they're half a step away from divorce lawyers."

            "Now now Frannie, we mustn't concern ourselves with what goes on behind closed doors. I'm sure Hank and Sandra love each other very much. We all have our struggles, right Oliver? Like... Financial issues."

            Oliver furrowed his brow. "Are you implying anything, Mr. Delfigalo?"

            "Al. And I'm just sayin', you did just lose your company. This is a pretty fancy place and that's a decent rock on your wife's finger."

            "It was my mother's." He muttered, which Felicity tried her best to refrain herself from gasping. Was he serious?

            "I'm a saver." Felicity wrapped her arm around Oliver's waist. 

            "Of course you are." Al took her hands in his and kissed the top. "I don't usually interact with other residents. I'm pretty much a one-woman kind of man, but there are always exceptions. I wouldn't be opposed to a little shake up."

            She forced herself to giggle even though she tightened her grip around Oliver. In spite of all acts and covers, Oliver felt a prickle of jealousy and protectiveness creep under his skin. He kind of wanted to throw this man through a wall.

            Before he could create any kind of retort, the lights slammed out as the sound of glass shattering from all around them reigned their inner ears. Screaming guests were going into full panic mode which increased the hysteria of the atmosphere. Gunshots fired in all directions, only improving the shouts to blood curdling screams. Without hesitation, Oliver scooped Felicity into his arms and kicked open the emergency exit, few people trickled behind him.

            "Get me to a computer." She ordered. 

            "Where?"

            "This place definitely has a security room."

            They ran across the pool deck and up into a small white building. Inside, there were armed men lounging about as if they weren't in the midst of a high-level attack, killing and kidnapping people for their own whim. Oliver pulled the door open and after just a few moments, swung them out the window and into the dumpster. He quickly grabbed some bike chains and locked them in there.

            "This good enough?"

            "Yeah, now go kick some ass, Mr. Queen." 

            "Sure thing, Mrs. Queen."

            A small smile spread across her lips as he left. She got up and barricaded the door and kept one of the man's weapons close to her side. She moved to crack her knuckles.

            "It's probably best if we keep it dark so no one sees you fighting, so I'm coding this, vastly outdated, system so that it has an infrared feature so I can see you show your stuff in the dark."

            Roy could be heard snorting as Diggle shook his head. "Unbelievable."

            "Oliver, we have a problem."

            "No kidding." He grunted as he threw five men off of him.

            "I can't see Mrs. Delfigalo. I think she's been taken."


	6. Who is Mrs. Queen?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fantasy and reality sharply collide when outsiders question what the hell has become of Oliver Queen's life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay-- finals are over and now I can resume living once again!

            They should have known that the press would find their way to the scene of the crime. Team Arrow was really banking on the possibility that the insanity that still consumed Starling would distract from any potential ruckus that took place. Naturally, they were wrong and this meant that news that Oliver Queen was seen with his "secret wife" at the gala where the shooting took place. So much for recovery of the Queen name. Now, rumors scoured the internet and tabloids about who the lucky lady was. A few suspected it was former flame Laurel Lance while others figured Oliver got a girl pregnant and had no choice but to marry her. Felicity's identity remained completely concealed, which was just about the only advantage they had, but that wasn't even secure. Who knew how long it would take for one of the neighbors to casually mention her? 

            For now, Felicity, now wearing glasses and dressed in sweats, remained in the "guest room" of their house with Diggle and Roy on either side of her. The two dressed as paramedics and pretended to be assisting her with her foot that she (not really) hurt at the gala. She wasn't thankful a terrorist attack happened, but she was grateful for a better excuse that didn't involve making her sound like she was into BDSM. 

            "How did you hurt yourself, again?" Roy asked as the blonde continued to carefully scan all security footage. She was adding numerous filters in an attempt to get a clearer image of the attackers in addition to cross zooming every pixel. Most of the video consisted of Oliver leaping into defense, scooping several citizens up and dragging them to safety. 

            "Long story." She muttered and winced as she shifted her feet. Damn glass bowls.

            "How do we know Mrs. Delfigalo didn't just make it outside before the attacks?" Diggle knelt beside her and gently took her foot in his hands. "And while we're here, I should probably re-wrap this."

            Felicity allowed him more access by lifting her foot into his lap. There was no reason they couldn't multitask. She dragged the mouse back a few frames where the lights were still on and they were all standing around without a care in the world. She pointed to the screen.

            "Keep your eyes on Mrs. Delfigalo."

            She clicked play and it showed the blackout and a few seconds later, it switched to night vision and the woman was no longer standing there or anywhere in the vicinity. She hit pause and turned to them both, pushing her glasses from slipping off her nose. 

            "Okay, but there are a few seconds where it's all black. Can you not get that footage back?"

            "I've tried every way possible, but all that's showing up is complete blackness. The audio isn't even there and believe me, I was there. People were screaming their diamond-encrusted dresses off. Night vision only works if there's something to light. At first, I thought it was possible that someone got to the footage and erased it, but if that were the case there would be a delay and the numbers at the bottom of the screen wouldn't correspond. Even when it's dark, there's still military time in the bottom right corner. That's raw footage. The playback flows completely normal and even if Spielberg and his entire team met in that office for a few hours, there's no way I'd be unable to trace tampering of raw footage."

            "So what are you saying?"

            "I'm saying, these cameras were designed to blank out for those very three seconds. That's a little too coincidental don't you think? Mrs. Delfigalo just happens to disappear in the time allotted?"

            "Does Oliver know this?"

            "Of course he does." Roy smirked. "Married people tell each other everything."

            She rolled her eyes. "Yes he _does_ know. The press is kind of swarming him right now. I know Laurel and Thea have been trying to contact him. Turns out no matter how pissed everyone is at the Queen's, they're even angrier there was no invite to the wedding."

            "Hey, Felicity." Diggle finished wrapping her foot and stared intently at the screen. "Do me a favor and go back to the moment before the lights went off and zoom in on Mr. Delfigalo."

            She did as she was told and clicked play.

            "Pause." Diggle ordered. "Look at his face."

            She furrowed her brow and leaned in. "He was expecting something."

            "And he doesn't even think to look for his wife when its pitch black. That's kind of messed up, right? I mean, I'm not married, but look at Oliver versus Delfigalo." Roy pointed. "He grabs you immediately with no hesitation and Delfigalo runs for the hills."

            "In fact, he's the first one out." She mused. "911 said they were called by a woman."

            "Yeah, he was definitely in on it." Diggle confirmed. "Whether he's being blackmailed or whatever, this is definitely Falcone-level shit."

            Before anyone could respond, a hard knocking came at the door. Felicity gestured to her foot pointedly.

            Roy shrugged and moved downstairs almost silently and swung the door open. Normally, he'd be more careful, but given that police officers still crowded almost every square radius of the neighborhood, he wasn't too concerned about the ordeal. He did almost swallow his tongue when he realized he was looking at none other than Laurel Lance. To elaborate: a very displeased Laurel Lance. 

****************************************************************************************************************************************************

            Meanwhile, after evading thousands of questions about "The New Mrs. Queen", all Oliver wanted to do was go back to the house and crash on the couch, something he knew would never be a destiny for him. He'd always have to be the one fighting so average Joe's could actually do that. Deep inside him he longed for that kind of environment. He wanted to come home to something in the way he and Felicity were currently acting out for the good of the mission. He definitely didn't want to jeopardize that.

            His thought process was interrupted by his phone ringing. He was about to put it on silent, but he hadn't spoken to Thea in weeks. She was obviously still pissed about the Roy situation along with mourning the gruesome death of their mother, something he wasn't quite over doing, himself. Even so, he missed her and wished he could talk to her about all of this, his conflicting feelings and exhaustion.

            "Hey, Speedy!"

            "Ollie, what the shit?"

            "It's nice to talk to you too."

            "You do realize I'm not on the kind of island that doesn't have internet, right?"

            "Some don't, you know." He replied dryly. "Where are you, exactly?"

            "Uh uh. I get to ask the questions this round, buddy. I know I said I'd never come back to Starling City, but there are unspoken exceptions and you know what those exceptions are?"

            "I'm guessing my missing you isn't one of them?"

            "Stop avoiding this! You got married? YOU got MARRIED and didn't tell anyone."

            "Thea-"

            "-As the last remaining member of your family and as the one person that's always wanted you to find happiness, I should have been the first, if only, person you called."

            "-It's not... It's not what it all seems like."

            "Who the hell is she? It's not Laurel or Sara, right? That would be gross at this point, don't you think?"

            "Yes. I mean, yes it's not Laurel or Sara. And yes that would be gross."

            "Then who the hell would marry one of us? In case you haven't noticed, we don't exactly have money or a great reputation in that town?"

            "Well-"

            "-Wait. Do I have a niece or nephew on the way?"

            "... No. Why do people keep thinking that?"

            "Oh, I don't know, because it came out of left field? Last I talked to you, you were sleeping at Verdant. Now, you're living in a beautiful house in the 'burbs. That doesn't exactly scream consistency."

            "Thea, I- This is all not at all what you think."

            "You're telling reporters you want to keep your wife's identity concealed. What, are you marrying someone that's trying to get into the country?"

            "No-"

            "-Do you love her?"

            Silence.

            "Ollie?"

            "I..." He stammered and glanced at the upstairs bedroom, where he could see the soft glow of a computer screen. He could feel the corners of his mouth turn instinctively even at her implied presence. He imagined she was typing at a blinding speed, colored nails tracing every key repetitively yet gracefully. They were like her instruments in a sense and she knew them better than anyone else. She knew him better than anyone else.

            "I think so."

            "Sounds worthy of walking down the aisle." She muttered. "Am I ever going to meet her?"

            "I hope so."

**************************************************************************************************************************************************** 

            "Roy?"

            "Hey, Laurel." He said loudly enough for Diggle and Felicity to hear.

            "Don't tell me you're Oliver's wife."

            He gave her a lopsided grin. "He was never exactly the Queen I was interested in, ya know?"

            "Can I come in?"

            "Uh sure!" He raised his voice again.

            She stepped over the threshold and looked gazed around the presently dark house. Her heels clicked on the wood floor with every determined step she took.

            "Are you here to drop off his wedding gift?" He attempted at a light joke.

            "One moment, Oliver's bankrupt and forgoing the "Oliver Queen" persona and dedicating his life to being the Arrow, the next he's moving to the suburbs with some wife I've never even heard of?"

            "Oh, you may of heard of her... I don't know."

            She narrowed her eyes at him. "What do you know, Harper?"

            He opened his mouth to answer, but a loud thump upstairs followed by an audible curse sent her eyes to the ceiling and back to his. He offered a weak shrug, but when she tried to move past him, he stopped her.

            "Laurel, I doubt you're going to want to go up there."

            She wrinkled her nose. "Ew. A terrorist attack just happened!"

            "We both know they're resilient."

            She was about to take his word for it, but suddenly Oliver Queen slipped through the door. She turned a sharp glare at Roy.

            "Okay, what the hell is going on?"

            "Laurel?" Oliver seemed the opposite of overjoyed to see his friend. The last thing he needed was another complication this week. The press just needed one glimpse of his ex-girlfriend at his house and they'd have a whole new slew of ideas. Besides, Laurel was putting herself in the crosshairs of a dangerous operation.

            "Don't "Laurel?" me! What the hell is going on?"

            "It's complicated."

            "What, is she pregnant? I didn't even know you were seeing anybody. I get that we have a weird past, but I'm still your friend and I expect some kind of notice. You know, like telling me you're marrying someone or even who the hell she is."

            "She's not pregnant." He confirmed through tight lips. 

            "Oh my God... You're doing this for money. Ollie, if you needed cash, I would have been more than happy to help you. You don't need to marry some girl that wants you to settle alone in the suburbs. This is beyond unfair to her. How did you guys not argue against this?"

            "I don't know. I think they're pretty cute together." Roy teased.

            "Do you even care about her?"

            "Yes!" Oliver shot back immediately. His face and neck were red and before Laurel could formulate any other questions, fast footsteps came pattering down the stairs followed by heavier ones.

            "Sorry to interrupt this extremely awkward marriage announcement, but we've got bigger problems." Felicity limped towards them holding her tablet in one hand and her cell phone in the other. However, what really grasped Laurel's attention was the shimmering diamond the blonde wore on her left ring finger. 

            Oliver reached out and pulled a stool for her to sit on and eased her down with the upmost gentleness. "What's wrong?"

            "I've been scanning the tapes and not only is Delfigalo involved, but Franny's maiden name is Falcone."

            "Are you sure?"

            "As sure as I am smart."

            "That's pretty sure." He smirked lightly.

            Laurel broke their gaze with the loud snap of her mouth closing. "Oh my God... I feel like I should have called this somehow?"

            "It's not what you think!" She assured. "We're just married."

            When that clearly offered zero consolation, she cleared her throat and started again. Oliver stopped her by touching her elbow to meet silent communication with her for a moment. It was as if he was asking "are you sure about this?" and Felicity nodded, never breaking contact with him. 

            "We're undercover." She breathed. "We have been for a little while and we're working with the SCPD. I don't think I can say too much about the case other than the fact that we are currently looking for a missing woman. So, Oliver and I needed to fit into this gated community and the only way to do that would be if we were married. That's why we're living in this incredibly gorgeous and symmetrical house. So, it's nothing weird. I mean, yeah, there's only one bed and sex parties, bbb-but we don't have sex at the parties or in the bed. Or anywhere. I haven't even _thought_ about doing that with Oliver, because... Well, it's not that I've _never_ thought about it, because he's hot, but that's not all there is to him. I just don't have sex. I mean, I don't... don't. It's not that I don't it's just that I haven't in a really long time. Not that I'm awful at it or anything... I can do this one thing-- Oh God why am I still talking?"

            "Felicity" Oliver all but begged, his hand resting firmly on her shoulder and his cheeks stained even pinker than earlier. This time, his ears were also crimson. Clearly, the thought hadn't exactly escaped him either.

            "That was painful." Roy commented and Diggle nodded in agreement. 

            Felicity massaged her temples. "If only one could really zipper one's mouth shut."

            Laurel cleared her throat. "Oh-kay. Now that  _that's_ cleared up, if not a bit overly so, is there anything I can do to help?"

            "Actually, if you could get me a couple people's criminal records, that would be fantastic. It would save me a lot of hacking. Grant it, it doesn't take me that long. I almost want to tell Lance to up the security so I can have more of a challenge."

            "I can do that." She smiled. "I'm just relieved Ollie didn't knock some chick up."

            Oliver wrinkled his nose. "Thanks, Laurel. I'll walk you out."

            As they stepped outside, he turned to her. "I'm going to need you not to tell anyone this. The press can't know you were here and they really can't know about Felicity. The people we are dealing with are dangerous, but their adversaries may be worse."

            "Your secret is safe with me." 

            "Thank you. Sorry for keeping you in the dark... again."

            She rolled her eyes and stepped down the pavement, but turned around when she was almost to her car. "And hey, Ollie?"

            "Yeah?"

            "When you actually do marry that girl, do me a favor and invite me to the wedding? I want a plus one."


	7. Going Green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The community has fallen rather silent in the wake of Mrs. Delfigalo's absence. However, not silent enough to cancel a weekly tradition. One that potentially puts a strain on Oliver and Felicity's relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm proud to say the chapter title has dual meanings.

            "These people really can't cancel a dumb dinner? A police investigation is going on for God's sakes!" Felicity huffed as she changed into a suitable dartmouth green dress. As much as she normally liked getting decked out, it was frustrating when they could be participating in more useful means of investigation. It was hard to run in heels alone let alone with a bum foot. 

            "What gets me is the fact that Mr. Delfigalo is hosting." Oliver murmured and straightened his necktie of an identical shade. "And why do we have to match, again?"

            "It enforces that we are a solid unit." She emerged from the bathroom and ran her eyes over him as he faced the opposite direction. Okay, maybe she shouldn't be complaining about dressing up. It certainly had its perks. He turned to her with a clear amount of approval in his gaze. A small smile tugged on his lips as he bashfully looked down to his shoes. 

            "Besides, I've always liked you in green." She winked and patted his chest. "What we really need to talk about is what our plan is going to be if those people starting acting like swingsets."

            He cleared his throat. "Right. Well, I was talking about this with Dig and Roy and they think... They think one of us should participate. Since I would never volunteer you up to slaughter, I said I would do it."

            She couldn't help the pang in her chest as his words tumbled over her. He wouldn't meet eye contact with her so it was clear this was something he really didn't want to do, but it was the fact that he would that drove her up the wall. Sure, she appreciated his not prostituting her, but this was all so very old-school Oliver Queen and she couldn't say she approved. Then again, what reason would she have to disapprove other than inappropriately placed jealousy? There was the fact that he was her friend and deserved a lot better than this, but that sounded like a weak argument in her head. Still, she was pissed.

            "How noble of you." She made no effort to hide her annoyance.

            "It's just a lot more believable for me to engage in this sort of activity, given my reputation and all."

            "I thought we were working hard to show that you aren't that person anymore." What she was really saying was: _"You're not that person anymore, right?"_

"That's in real-life. This is a different world. They know me as Ollie Queen. Shouldn't we be using that to our advantage to get intel?"

            "Yeah, it sounds like you're really interested in getting intel, all right. There's got to be a different way of approaching this."

            "Felicity..." He trailed off because he honestly didn't know what to say. This was clearly upsetting her, but he couldn't pinpoint the reason behind it. Part of him knew it was because they were allowing themselves to get a bit too close to the roles they were playing, but the other portion of him was blissfully unaware of all the pretense their words held. "Just... Don't worry about me, okay? I'm going to be fine. This isn't exactly my first time having meaningless sex."

            What he really wanted to say:  _"I hate the idea of doing this, but I don't see another way out. It feels like I'm cheating on you even if I'm not. I don't want to be with any of those people or any other kind of people. I just want to be with you."_ But he couldn't convey his true meaning behind what he'd spoken in reality. Instead, his interpretation existed only in the back of his mind and the beat of his heart.

            He didn't know it, but it was that sentence that crushed the most for a string of different reasons. She knew he wasn't the kind of person that didn't take value in the important things anymore. He wanted love and life and everything in between, but he was constantly so willing to sell himself short and for what cost? If they really sat around thinking, they could develop a way out that didn't require Oliver's prostituting himself. He was trying to hard right now to shove away any growth he'd made for the sake of avoiding the real conversation here. She knew very well that he was no longer playboy Oliver, island Oliver, or even vigilante Oliver. In fact, she wasn't sure what incarnation of his evolution (or devolution) stood before her. 

            And it wasn't about having meaningless sex, but it was all the meaning behind his decision to do so. Years ago, if he'd said he was going to have a random one night stand with someone, she'd say have at it and be safe. She liked him then, too, so she told herself her opinions didn't waver due to sense of entitlement. Maybe a little bit, but she'd never let that control his stride towards potential happiness. It was just this never-ending rut he seemed to stick himself in. More than anything did she want to pull him out, but if he wouldn't budge, there was nothing she could do.

            She would continue to worry about him, though.

            "Fine." She replied curtly. "Let's go."

***********************************************************************************************************************************

            At the dinner party, Felicity couldn't help but notice how elegant of a get together this dinner was. There were no children in sight (despite how much this town prided itself on being kid friendly), candles were strung throughout the entire room. A large variety of delectable Italian cooking was set across the massive dinner table. There was a chair for every couple that RSVPed. Chet and Sandy said that anyone who doesn't show up to weekly dinner was essentially shunned from activities for a month. She was growingly jealous of those who were shunned.

            "As we know-" Al began as he sat at the head of the table, gazing wistfully to the empty chair at the other end. "We lost someone yesterday. Some people wonder why I didn't cancel dinner."

            Felicity shifted in her seat at the sudden feel of his gaze on her. That was weird.

            "However, I've had a lot of loss in my life and in that loss I've determined that the best way to recover is to relish life for what it's worth. I'm glad you could all come tonight. I really need all the support I can get. She was my everything."

            Oliver gave Felicity a soft nudge. Everything? They were talking about this woman like she was pronounced dead. She was such an expert at all things technology that she was already in the process of texting the group under the table without even glancing at her phone. When you're Felicity Smoak, looking at the keyboard only hinders your success and slows you down.

            **Felicity** : Al is acting super shady about Franny's disappearance. I need someone to check all local Jane Doe's and see if it's a match.

            **Lance** : i get txts???????????

            **Dig** : DNA needed 4 that 2 werk. bedrm is a good plce 2 start

            **Roy** : ;)))))))))

            **Felicity** : When I get back I'm teaching you all how to text.

            Dinner continued on fairly blissfully, however the mere fact that everything carried on so casually made Oliver and Felicity believe that Al was not the only one who was aware Franny would be taken. The Howard's were practically giddy as they talked about how Al could now freely interact with everyone without feeling somewhat guilty in being away from his wife. It was all very sick, to be honest.

            "I'd say it's dessert time, wouldn't you?" Barbra winked across the table at Chet.

            "You know what? I have a bit of a cold, but Oliver is going to... have fun." Felicity wrinkled her nose and tried her best to convey some kind of ease about the situation. Instead, her stomach was in knots and her face was enflamed when Sandy Howard noticeably squeezed Oliver's thigh beneath the table. "I'll clean up everything and you guys go ahead."

            She didn't fail to notice how Al's eyes never left her as she exited the room with a series of plates. That sick feeling in her stomach was for more than one purpose now. The idea of engaging in any sort of activity with that man man her want to upchuck all the delicious lasagna she had for dinner. She really did have too much, because she was feeling sick as is. How do people eat copious amounts and then go at it like dogs? Either way, she decided to focus her thoughts on the task at hand. Maybe she'd sneak their forks in her bag and run Al's DNA for fun?

            Sandy leaned in and began tentatively sucking on Oliver's neck. Yeah, he really wasn't feeling having this plastic woman drape herself all over him. Her husband was watching with great pride too and Oliver feared this was going to turn into something else. It felt like his skin was curling with every intimate touch and he absently wondered how in his youthful days, he wouldn't necessarily be opposed to this very situation. Okay, the whole husband watching thing always would have weirded him out, but having casual sex with someone's wife? That would be cake for him. 

            "Why don't we go upstairs?" He choked out as she began to stick her hand down his pants.

            She looked at him through sultry eyes and he hoped to convey the same look, because if he was wearing his emotions on his sleeve, this was going to go very badly. She stood up and took him by the hand, leading him a way she'd obviously grown familiar with. He knew Al and Franny were fairly loyal to each other, but just how many people slept in their bed? It sent a shiver up his spine that he had no time to really contemplate, because she was pushing him backwards against the mattress and straddling him like he was a horse.

            "Felicity's so... young and inexperienced. I'm going to show you a real good time." She massaged his chest and leaned in for a tongue-filled kiss. Honestly, he had to start thinking about motivational thoughts because he was as soft as a pillow right now. It was an exact parallel to his experience with Felicity the other day.

            Felicity.

            She'd looked so good in her dress tonight, the way it hugged the slope of her ass and how it smoothly fell above her knees, showcasing legs that ran forever. The idea of Felicity in green hitched his breath, unlocking an untapped fantasy of his own. 

            "I see you're awful ready for me." Sandy whispered in his ear.

            Crap, well that worked.

            "I want you to scream my name." She grinned. "Like you've never screamed hers before."

            "Um." He paused and sat up. "I don't think I can-"

            She'd just unzipped his pants when suddenly, the firealarm went off. Screaming came from below and Sandy lunged off of him and out the door in panic. Oliver quickly dashed into the bathroom, grabbed a clump of hair from a woman's hairbrush, stuffed it in his back pocket and was out the door not far behind her. He raced down the steps and around the lower level of the house to see smoke clouding the kitchen. He persevered through and realized there was a smokescreen in the oven. When no one appeared to be around, he left through the front door, earning a gaze of approval from all the ladies outside considering he was still shirtless.

            Felicity tried her best to look flustered and was clearly distancing herself from Al. Oliver moved to stand between the two of them and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

            "Are you okay?"

            She simply nodded before shooting a nervous glance Al's way and then back up at Oliver. 

***********************************************************************************************************************************

            "So." He started as they walked home in silence, now completely alone. He was now wearing his shirt and she had his jacket loosely draped over her. "Are we going to talk about the fact that you set off the fire alarm so I wouldn't have sex with Sandy?"

            She scoffed. "That would imply I was jealous, which I was not."

            He willed himself not to smile. "You seemed pretty shaken up back there. What happened?"

            "Al made a move on me, of course. Not only have I come to the conclusion that I'm an awful fake-cougher but I'm also very handy with smoke."

            "Well, it is your name."

            "You said it, not me, just to clarify." She nudged him. "He kept repeating stuff we've said when we weren't around him. I'm kind of worried he's bugged the house, Oliver."

            He nodded. "If you're right, then we need to use that to our advantage. We don't make any other legitimate plans in the house until we've tracked the source of infiltration."

            They stopped in front of their big house. She tilted her head as she looked up at him, wrinkling her nose in a way that could only be described as adorable. 

            "And besides, even if I did use the fire alarm tactic to lure you away from Sandy Howard, it obviously didn't work too well."

            He put his hands in his pockets. "It didn't have to."

            She furrowed her brow. "What do you mean?"

            "I couldn't do it." He shook his head and looked past her. "I used to be able to do anything for all of this, sacrifice whatever it took. What kind of hero does it make me if I'm putting my own wants and needs before the good of the people?"

            A soft smile ghosted across her lips. "You can't be a hero and not have desires and standards, Oliver. To understand the importance of saving lives, you have to understand what it's like to live life."

            He stared at her for a good long time, truly processing her words as he always did. For a moment, as he had many moments, he contemplated on kissing her, taking her advice right there on the spot. Instead, he reached in his back pocket and removed the clump of hair.

            "At least we got what we came for."

            "How romantic. I brought a gift too!" She giggled and took a fork from her purse. "I'd say we're perfect for each other."

            Okay, yeah she was totally jealous about the whole Sandy Howard situation, but more than anything was she beaming with pride that she'd been right all about him. He was changed, but for the better.


	8. The Pasta Dish of Deceit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four pretty big reveals change the Queen's course of action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a warning: There's a bit more "harder" cursing (particularly the use of the f-word) in this chapter than the other ones. I'm never bothered by it (mainly because in reality I use it more than I probably should), but because I have this as a teen rating I feel like I should say something.

            Felicity bounded down the steps with her tablet at hand, more than ready to deliver the shocking news she'd just received based off of the DNA tests on both Mr. and Mrs. Delfigalo. She was already mentally practicing her exact wording in order to speed the process. The last thing they needed was for her to go on a long rant full of unnecessary rambles and most likely inappropriate comments that she will regret later. She found "thinking before speaking" was something she really had to work on. 

            Her disappointment was evident when she realized Oliver was not on the couch, but it didn't last long, because the smell of cooked bacon permeated through the air. She could have sworn she also heard the sound of pleasant whistling. Was he whistling like the seven dwarves? Oh, he totally was. She felt herself growing rather giddy at the situation and her heart only swelled when she actually entered the kitchen and saw the man in question in action.

            Oliver donned plaid pajama pants, a white t-shirt, and a white apron that she definitely didn't pack. The man came with every intention of looking like an average joe cooking up some eggs on a Saturday morning. It was certainly a production. The table was set for two with two sets of all silverware along with equally poured glasses of orange juice, no pulp. He hated pulp.

            "Good morning." She bit her lip to prevent her smile from entering "dopey" territory, even though that would fit the song he was whistling along to. "What's all this?"

            He turned to her for a moment, taking in her casual appearance with a burst of affection. He couldn't help the way his mouth spread in response to her. Here she was, blurry-eyed and rumpled from sleep. Her hair was in a loose ponytail where multiple strands stuck in all directions, pink pajama bottoms hanging distractingly low on her hips, and over-sized t-shirt hung off one shoulder. She was the picture of morning glory in his eyes.

            "This." He used the spatula to scoop eggs off the pan and onto a plate. "Is breakfast. We have to eat. It's been forever since I've actually made regular food."

            "What do you mean? You made all the food for the bang-umm... the party we had the other day. The guests didn't exactly focus on the food per say, considering their party games were distracting as hell, but you still got to be master chef for a moment." She still didn't hesitate to take the plate he offered her. 

            "I'm choosing not to count that." He smirked and went to sit down at the kitchen table. 

            She took a moment before following him. How did all of this happen, anyway? She was aware it was all very temporary, but why did this all feel very routine in the best way? It felt like this was ritual: Saturday morning breakfast in their beautifully lit kitchen. The sun was bright, birds were chirping, and the serene atmosphere almost allowed her to forget they were living around life-long criminals plotting to kill Oliver. Almost. It didn't, however, erase the incredibly appalling and shocking truths she'd uncovered through the magic of science. Nope, that would be encrypted in her brain for a while.

            "So, you went to bed early last night." Oliver started as he picked at his food.

            "Oh, yeah. Well, after how terrifying last night was, I was pretty exhausted." She had to be careful of everything she said now that they were fairly sure there was a bug on the premises. Unfortunately, it wasn't the kind of bug she could just sick Oliver on. It was his husbandly duty, after all.

            "I heard you talked to Thea about... everything. Does she know about me?"

            "Surprisingly, I was able to subdue that knowledge from reaching her. It's not that I don't want her to know you it's just... no safe, you know? If Thea came back, there'd be news coverage, which is exactly the last thing we need."

            "Believe me, I don't want my mother flying here demanding to know exactly how you proposed or anything like that."

            "I guess I should be prepared to talk about that." He pondered carefully.

            She cleared her throat and took a sip from her juice. "What... What do you think you'd say?"

            "It was romantic, right?"

            "Very."

            "I'd talk about how I took you to where we first met, which is your old tech-place."

            "Also known as the IT department."

            "Exactly. I took you to your old desk... Candles were obviously lit."

            "Oh, obviously. They were beautiful." She smiled wistfully and actually picturing this fake moment in time.

            "And I got down on one knee and talked about how the moment I met you, you sparked a change in me. You were always this... light that allowed me to see the better parts of myself that I always ignored or was blind to. You made me feel warm again no matter how much I denied it at first. All I wanted to do was make you feel the same way back." Now he was the one trailing off into the horizon, clearly clouded with thoughts and dreams that she wouldn't dare infringe upon.

            Instead, she took his hand. "I'm glad I said yes."

            "Me too."

            After a moment of shared silence, they released each other's hands and he nodded semi-awkwardly. "So what do you have planned for the rest of the day?"

            She finished her plate like she was heading to the electric chair before sitting forward and staring at him intently. "We do have a free day, don't we?"

            "That we do."

            "We should have sex."

            Oliver's eyes grew wide and he began choking on the piece of bacon he'd just bitten. He began hitting his chest violently before grabbing his orange juice and taking heavy gulps from it.

            "Really didn't think that was a shocking request, given that we've done it a million times." She narrowed her eyes at him. Sure, the bug wasn't a video camera, but she didn't exactly appreciate how disturbing of a suggestion that seemed to be for him, even though it wouldn't actually be happening.

            "No, no it's not that." He breathed as he recovered. "You just took me off guard."

            She stood and grabbed him by the hand and pulled him up the steps. Her foot was feeling much better as of late and even though she had a little limp, she could move steadily without feeling like peg-leg the pirate. He followed her up the stairs with ease, never releasing her hand and still possessing this confused, shocked, and... excited look on his face. He most likely figure that she had a plan of some sorts, but she'd allow herself the satisfactory moment.

            She shut "their" bedroom door behind him and locked it before looking at him. He was staring at her warily, as if he was trying to figure out her status or move. He was assuming she didn't actually just demand sex and  _mean_ it. That wasn't really in Felicity's notorious characteristics. It's not that isn't bold, but she's more reserved in that way. She was bashful whenever she said something unknowingly sexual around him. Then again, she might be very different when she wanted the real thing. 

            "So... What's up?"

            "I figured out 3 things that are going to make you very proud of me!" She practically sang.

            He tried not to convey disappointment, because he wasn't really. He was glad she got some footing on the case. However, he felt a bit saddened that he could no longer have the small glimmer of hope that she was actually yanking him up the stairs to have sex and break the bubble of sexual/romantic tension that floated between them since the moment he said "I love you". He crossed his arms across his chest and nodded at her to go on.

            "I'm always proud of you."

            "First: I've been staring at security footage of the day we actually had people in our house and the only possible places the bug could exist is in the living room or the kitchen. Upstairs is a totally safe zone."

            "Hence our having sex." He put air quotes around the word and accompanied them with a lightheaded chuckle to appear relaxed.

            "Right. Number two: The DNA results came back and Mr. Delfigalo is a Falcone."

            "We got him, then!" Oliver smiled. He was half-ready to call Lance up and get them out of this backwards-ass town.

            "Finally-" She started and gave him a warning look. "Here's the doozy: So is Mrs. Delfigalo."

            "Well, of course she is, Felicity. They're married."

            "No, I mean by blood. Alfonso and Francesa Falcone are brother and sister, children of Alberto, who's the son of none other than Carmine Falcone himself. They're a direct line to the leader of the whole show."

            "So..." He blinked a few times and she nodded furiously as if to say  _I know right?_

            "You're telling me they're kissing... siblings?"

            "Unfortunately a lot more than kissing." She gagged. "Oh, God. Pardon my french, but this is so fucking weird. First, they're part of a familial murder business and yeah, that's fucked up. Next, they're swingers which is a different kind of fucked up. Now they're siblings, which is literally the crem dela crem of fucked up."

            He willed himself not to bust into laughter at her cursing. Felicity only got this way when she was incredibly frustrated during their missions or just mind-blown altogether and at complete loss of filter. He enjoyed it, but he couldn't be too amused given he, too, was equally disturbed at the matter.

            "Francesa is still missing." Oliver shook his head. "Something isn't right about that. I mean, something isn't right about any of this, but it's weird how all of this went down."

            "Yeah, and Al knew she was going to be taken. Why would he let his sister-wife be kidnapped?"

            "Unless it was all a ploy... to distract us from what they're really planning."

            "They have to know our business by this point. They bugged our house for God's sakes."

            "Felicity, I think we should re-visit that crime scene. There's something wrong about her disappearance. Nobody carried her out. It's like she vanished in mid-air. It was all very staged and if we can prove that, we can prove they're plotting something."

            "And there's no way she could have made it outside in the three seconds given by the screwed up camera."

            "Right. Let's get Diggle and Roy and-" He was cut off by the house phone ringing.

            Felicity furrowed her brow and walked over to her bedside table and picked it up. "Hello?"

            "Felicity? It's me, Sandy. Chet and I just wanted to check and see if you were okay."

            "Oh! Hi, Sandy. That's... sweet of you. Yeah, Oliver and I are both fine if not just a little shaken up."

            "I'm sure a little riff-raff with your gorgeous hubbie will do the trick, right? I don't want to hold you up, but I was wondering if you two would like to do lunch later this afternoon."

            "Let me ask Oliver." She covered the phone with her hand. "Lunch with the Howard's?"

            Oliver shrugged. "Make it dinner. We've got plans."

            "Can we make it dinner? Oliver and I want just a bit more... alone time." She cleared her throat.

            "Oh, honey I get it. I almost had it last night had it not been for that  _damn_ alarm. You know, Chet was saying someone set it off purposely."

            "That's weird."

            "I know, right? Well, I'll talk to you later, hun. Have fun with Oliver!"

            Felicity hung up and sat there for a minute with a furrowed brow.

            "What?" Oliver sat beside her on the bed. She stared over at him with the same intensity in her eyes. It looked like she was solving an equation in her mind. He dared not to try and interrupt her process again. He just waited as patiently as he could muster.

            "Oliver..."

            "Hmm?"

            "The sex-siblings didn't bug our house."

            He winced at her nickname.

            "The Howard's did." Her face smoothed out before she wordlessly stood and walked out of the room and down the stairs. He waited a moment before following her into the kitchen, where she opened up the freezer and pulled out the untouched dish given to them on the first day. She put her fingers over her lips and took her fork from breakfast and stirred it around until she gingerly scooped up a small piece of metal and placed it into her hand.

            She had a devilish look in her eyes and they targeted straight at him. "Who's a better kisser, sweetheart? Me or Sandy?"

            He'd never even kissed Felicity before and he knew the answer to this question and what she was doing. "You are, honey. I'm not just saying that either. I know what we signed up for when we decided to live in this community, but there isn't anyone in the whole world I'd rather be with than you."

            Her smile created dimples on her cheeks and she raised her hand to her lips before making a long kissing sound for good measure. 

            This was going to be fun.


	9. Infiltration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Arrow approaches the scene of the crime to try and get insight on Mrs. Delfigalo's mysterious disappearance.

           "So, you're telling me she bugged your pasta? That's messed up." Roy shook his head as the four of them drove to the country club. No one questioned how driving in a big black van through a gated community in the middle of the day was moderately suspicious, mainly due to the fact that there wasn't another way to transport Felicity's tech. 

           "That means the Howard's are involved, if that is their real last name." Diggle noted as he drove. "But how? And why?"

           "I feel like we're going to get a lot more understanding of that once we find out what happened to Francesca and why it happened to her." Oliver looked over at a surprisingly quiet, but focused, Felicity. She only typically got like this when she was onto something, but he didn't dare tread on her train of thought. That was a lethal move even for someone that learned to forage for himself in purgatory.

           "I'm still not over the fact that Al has been banging his sister all along." Roy shivered. "Like, this is California. We're supposed to be liberal! Not hicks that go around sleeping with our sisters."

           "And marrying her no less." Diggle sighed. "We are dealing with some sick shits. I mean, we knew that before, but even more so now."

           "You know..." Felicity looked up. "Maybe not."

           "Maybe not what?"

           "Maybe it's not that weird."

           Everyone simultaneously seemed to turn abnormally green and bug-eyed. Oliver scooted a few inches between them as if her words were a disease that would infect him. It really only took a moment to infuse disgusted opinions in people. It was amazing.

           "Okay, Cersei." Roy wrinkled his nose.

           "What? No! I'm not- Ugh, I mean that maybe they're not doing the horizontal tango. And don't ever call me a Lannister again if you don't want all your profile pictures to permanently become The Flukeman from  _The X-Files_."

           "Felicity, they're married." Oliver didn't even pretend to understand the references she just dropped, but something told him she would eventually make him find out. "I don't know much about marriage, but I do know that typically comes with the deal."

           "Think about it, Oliver!" She grabbed his forearm in excitement. "Why be swingers?"

           "So you can have sex with other people in a weird orgy?" Roy shrugged.

           "That's what a swinger is, but  _why_ be a swinger." She emphasized. "Why, if you were in such a happy marriage, would you want to hook up with other people?"

           "Because it turns some crazy people on?"

           "Maybe, but not in this case. At our sexcapade, everyone else already paired up except them. They just sat there, untouched and left out. At first I thought it was because they weren't really about those kinds of games, but at Al's party, he was all about touching and squeezing me. By the way, that man's hands are super clammy."

           "At our party, they wouldn't participate, because they didn't want to hook up with each other." Oliver mused. "They don't hook up with each other."

           "They started this whole "swinger" craze in the neighborhood so they could get nookie and still be married. Everyone else just followed, because they lead sad, unsatisfying marriages and use this as a means to spark up the sex department."

           "Why be married though?" Diggle asked. 

           "That is the million-dollar question and the one we should be trying to find out."           

           "I don't care what you say, this is all still super weird." Roy grumbled.

********************************************************************************************************************************

 

           "Is there any particular reason you two want to rent out the space in this ballroom? We did just have a major attack take place here. I think you were actually there, Mr. Queen." A woman by the name of Ms. Beats questioned them. She was the sales manager of the club and overlooked every major event that took place. 

           "This is the biggest one, right?"

           "Well, yes..."

           "Then that's the one we need. I don't believe in haunted rooms, Ms. Beats." He smiled. 

           "If you don't mind my asking, what do you need it for?"

           "Sweet 16." Felicity blurted out and then quickly looped her arm with the unsuspecting Roy. "My little brother has a lot of friends."

           "Sixteen?" Roy growled under his breath.

           "That's right! He's going for his license test soon, right buddy?"

           Roy looked at Oliver in a pleading sense, but he only nodded in agreement with Felicity. God, when did they actually become so married? There was such a thing as acting and he knew these two weren't Oscar-winning performers. 

           "Right." He gritted.

           Oliver nodded quickly, slightly impressed by her ability to think on her feet. He also briefly wondered where those decent excuses were when he needed them as CEO of Queen Consolidated. Even so, he placed his hand on the small of her back, an act that he'd done frequently this week, but one he never did without being hyperaware. Every bit of contact caused his heart to skip in hesitance. Would this be too far? Would that be too much? What would she say or do if he did that? He watched and waited for her to react in discomfort, but it never happened. She leaned into his touch, but not without an awareness of her own. There was just so much unspoken between them and he made a mental note to fix some of that.

           "Well then." Ms. Beats smiled. "I assume you'd like a moment to look around. I need to make a phone call with the caterer about a reception we're having here this weekend."

           She clicked off and the second she disappeared from view, Roy aggressively removed himself from Felicity's grasp. "What the hell, Smoak?"

           "I'm sorry! It's the only thing I could think of!"

           "16, really? I'm 23, Felicity! You couldn't have made it my 21st birthday or something? At least let me have alcohol!"

           "First of all-" She waved her hands animatedly. "Not actually having this party. Second of all, it worked. She bought it, which is all that really matters here-"

           "-She thinks I'm in high school! I do not look like I'm in high school!"

           "You kind of look like you're in high school." Dig quipped over the comms. "You got short legs and you can't grow a beard."

           "Oh I can  _so_ grow a beard. I just... choose not to."

           "Whatever you say." Oliver chuckled and pressed a piece of metal to the younger archer. "But say it while you're scanning the floor."

           "Dig? Where are you? I thought you were going to be around back." Felicity pressed a finger to her ear. 

           "I'm in the basement. I am more than just the black driver who waits outside you know."

           Oliver furrowed his brow. "The layout doesn't say anything about this place having a basement."

           "With the local flooding problems and lack of sun-pump there shouldn't be a basement." Felicity squeaked. "Dig, be careful."

           "I'm coming down to meet you... Where's the back door?" Oliver asked.

           "Uh, I don't think you're going to need it." Roy was now on all fours, tracing his finger along a box-shaped crease that was as thin as a hairline. "This part of the floor is uneven, only slightly off-center."

           Diggle looked to the wall and noticed a rusted breaker. He moved over to it and gently opened the loose hatch to see a bright red button. It definitely didn't fit the old, rusted appearance of the rest of the structure down below. In fact, it looked extremely new. Without thinking, he cautiously pushed the button, and for a moment, nothing seemed to happen...

           Until Roy came flying through the ceiling and hit the floor with a giant  _thump_.

           "So that's how that works." He mused. "Get up, Roy. We need to see if they're keeping Francesca around here."

           The young man groaned. "I'm alright, really."

           Felicity looked to Oliver with wide eyes. "I swear to God our lives are becoming more and more like _Clue_."

           "What version of that game were you playing?"

           "The movie, I mean!" She hissed.

           Ms. Beats came rounding around the corner again and Oliver and Felicity hurried towards her in an attempt to keep her from seeing the obvious hole in the floor. Sure, she probably knew and was likely at hand here, but they didn't need her knowing they were onto them.

           "I'm sorry. For some reason our security cameras have been acting up, but now they're back on par."

           No, they  _think_ they're back on par. Felicity is making them think that by displaying "regular" images of the gala. She tried her best not to smile at her own intelligence. Oliver didn't do as well at hiding his glee.

           "What's got you so happy, Mr. Queen? Do you love this place that much?" She asked.

           "My wife. She makes me happy." He wrapped an arm around Felicity and leaned in to kiss her hair. Her eyes fluttered close in reaction. It was hard not to get a little lost in the act.

           "And we like the venue." She smiled. 

           "So, you'll take it?"

           "We'll take it."

           "Excellent! I'll grab the paperwork!"

           "Sounds good."

           When she left, Oliver leaned into Felicity. "I sure hope the SCPD are okay with paying for Roy's sweet 16."

           She laughed and a scowl could be heard over the comm. "I hate you guys."

           "Anything weird down there?" She asked.

           "Just a series of rooms. I feel like we're in a big metal corn maze."

           "Okay, well I'm going to join-" Oliver started.

           Suddenly the door shut again.

           "I guess you guys aren't coming down." Dig huffed. "It's alright. Continue to live it up as a married couple."

           "You think they've banged yet?" Roy could be heard asking in the background.

           "Um, the comms are still open there, pal." Felicity felt her face going red and Oliver's ears were also pinking. "And we didn't close the door."

           "We didn't either." 

           Uhoh.

           


	10. Trust No One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mysteries are solved and blood is shed.

           "I'm going downstairs. Stay up here and make up something as to why I left!" Oliver ordered and before she could object in any manner about him going anywhere on his own or how the prospect of splitting up was typically terrible, he was gone and out the back door. He wasn't wrong though, because Diggle and Roy were very much in danger if someone was waiting for them. How could they be so stupid? This could be a trap set for Oliver. Al probably knew their every move at this point and there wasn't much to do about it other than try and sidestep landmines.

            _Mmm landmines._

Okay, now was  _not_ the time for fantasies. She turned on her heels at the sound of Ms. Beats's return. In her hands, there was a huge stack of papers that grimly reminded Felicity of her day job . How she wound up selling video cameras and laptops to clueless middle age men shopping for their families was still a mystery. Ah, that's right. She was fired from Queen Consolidated when Oliver signed the company over to the devil, aka the late Isabel Rochev, and QC went down the crapper. Then, when she got a new job, they fired her shortly after because she was kidnapped by Blood and couldn't show up for work. 

           "Where'd the hubby go?" 

            _Crap, this is the part I'm bad at. If in the moment lying was a requirement for living, I'd be long dead by now._

          "Diarrhea." She blurted out.

           "FELICITY!" Oliver hollered over the comm, making her flinch. "Are you kidding me?"

           "I'm sorry." She murmured.

           "For... What?" Ms. Beats stared at her curiously and of course not without a tinge of disgust on her face. 

           Damn, she apologized out loud. Roy was laughing pretty hard into his own comm, probably relieved that he wasn't the only one she embarrassed that day.

           "Enough!" Oliver snapped.

           "Oh come on, Oliver. It happens to the best of us."

           He rolled his eyes. "Just tell me your location."

           "We don't know where we are... I feel like we're walking circles honestly." Diggle replied. "I'm going to try and guide us back to the breaker."

           "Okay, I can probably meet you there."

           Felicity cleared her throat. "Well... Because I over-shared."

           "Right... Where's your brother?"

           "Oh... He's... the one with diarrhea... Oliver's just... helping."

           "Really, Felicity? Not only did you make me in high school, but you made me a high schooler with a shitting problem?"

           "It happens to the best of us." Oliver mocked with a smirk on his face.

           "You over-shared again." Ms. Beats pursed her lips. "Are you sure you're going to be able to sign these papers without telling me about any rashes or scabs?"

           "Nothing to really report in those areas, actually." She mused. It was true. For as possible as it was, villains have yet to create any skin disfiguring devices. They've had heart attack-inducing vertigo and eye-bleeding mirakuru, but no skin rashes or scabs. She was relieved, because she couldn't stomach having to deal with pus or anything like it.

           "Good." She replied curtly before leading Felicity into her office. She was a lot nicer when Oliver was around.

************************************************************************************************************************************************** 

           "I'm at the breaker. Where are you guys?"

           "No, we're here." Diggle muttered. "Where are _you_?"  

           "What?" Oliver furrowed his brow and looked around. He opened the latch on the breaker and pressed the red button, nodding when the trap door opened. This was obviously the right spot.

           "Does the breaker have a button in it like this one?" Oliver asked.

           Roy checked and nodded. "Yeah and it leads up to... Wait, this isn't the ballroom we were in earlier."

           "What does it lead to?"

           "Let's find out." Diggle got on the ground and hoisted the smaller man into the air so he could climb through the opening. "What do you see?"

           "It just looks like a bedroom."

           "Bedroom? Who's?"

           Oliver's question was answered almost immediately, for in came none other than Francesca Delfigalo aka Falcone, casually walked through the door, appearing mightily unharmed, and screamed upon seeing Roy.

           "We've got trouble." He muttered before moving forward and grabbing her before thinking incredibly fast. "I'm not here to hurt you."

           "Who the hell are you and let go of me!" She shrieked.

           "You have to listen to me, Francesca. My name is Roy and I work with the Green Arrow in Starling City."

           She wrinkled her brow. "You're the red one? I expected you to be taller."

           "Sorry to disappoint." He huffed. "Anyways, I'm here to save you and take you away from these awful people."

           "I don't need to be rescued, I need the rest of these people killed."

           "What? Why?"

           "My brother and I have been hiding from our grandfather for years."

           "Her grandfather's dead." Oliver said through Roy's ear. "Ask her about it."

           "We thought your grandfather was dead."

           She scoffed. "No one kills Carmine Falcone."

           "You still say that with pride, you realize that, right?"

           "This is a safe-zone courtesy of FBI. Al was in on it. We're trying to stage and make it seem like our family's arch nemesis's, The Maroni's, are behind my kidnapping."

           "To draw them out." Dig confirmed. "My question is why the FBI didn't tell the SCPD about this."

           "It doesn't fall under SCPD jurisdiction. Plus, we are currently doing an under-the-table undercover mission." Oliver sighed. "I wonder if Lance actually got us any information on this case. He still hasn't gotten the bilaws for Felicity."

           "Why do they want you?"

           "Because our dad and granddad want us to rule the company as brother and sister and neither of us like organized crime. I just wanted to live a normal life. Instead, far from it."

           "We'll get you one." Roy smiled. "I understand how you feel, believe it or not."

           "You do?"

           "Yeah. What more can you tell me?"

           "Al and I don't really know much about who's working for my grandpa. Apparently, they got pretty general-looking people to help to throw everyone else off. Obviously, they aren't going to send cousin Lou to come looking for us. We'd know."

           "Anything else?"

           "Well, it's funny, the Falcone's inside people seem to think this new couple on the block is behind my kidnapping... You'll never guess who the husband is." She smirked. "Oliver freaking Queen."

           All three men immediately felt the blood drain from their face.

           Felicity.

************************************************************************************************************************************************** 

           Felicity sat down when instructed to do so and immediately went to work on the mound of papers in her lap. How many ways can you write "Would you like to rent this space?" and "You will be charged for any damages" without sounding too repetitive? The answer was: not much, but that didn't stop whoever developed this from sounding like a broken record on paper. Forget the Falcone's, death by papercut seemed much more likely.

           She glanced up at Ms. Beats, who was staring deep into her soul.

           "God, there are a lot of liabilities on this thing, aren't there?"

           "That's what happens when you damage things that don't belong to you. You pay."

           A chill went up her spine. It was her intuition, telling her something was off. She had to turn off her comm so she could hear herself think and because the boys were talking so loud that it was beginning to become noticeable to others if they listened intently enough. She always yelled at them for doing so, but she usually wasn't the one with bullets chasing after her on a normal basis. It occurred to her that in this tiny room with poor reception, she had almost no defenses.

           "Excuse me. I have a call." The woman stalked out of the room and locked the door behind her.

           "Frack." She whispered, but took the opportunity to turn her comm back on and lunged over to her computer. 

           "FELICITY!" Oliver yelled and by the sounds of it, he'd been yelling her name for quite a while... And not in a good way.

           "Hey, sorry-- I'm here." She whispered. "Bad reception back here."

           "Back where? I'm coming for you. I think Beats is cornering you to kill you to get to me."

           "That's kind of sexist." She whimpered, but it didn't change the fear she felt. "I'm on her computer now. She'll be back any second."

           "Remember what I taught you about defending yourself." Diggle warned, also sounding like he was running. It had to be Beats or someone working for her that closed that trap door, right? He was trying to distract his concern for Felicity with that frightening thought. Someone else knew about them. "Everything is going to be alright."

           "The password to the unknown email is "Arrow102412". If things don't work out, use it for God's sakes and don't hurt my babies."

           "Felicity, you're going to be fine. I'm going to be there in just a minute." Oliver begged. "Do whatever it takes."

           At lightning speed, Felicity managed to copy the IP address and hack into her private information before sending all the information to a private email that she reserved solely for situations such as these, when the sender couldn't know who received their computer's entire database. As the door began to open, she exited out and moved back to her seat.

           The blood felt trapped in his head as Oliver blindly bolted up and across the ballroom towards the desired office. Diggle and Roy weren't too far behind him, but he was definitely reaching new levels of speed here. They were surprised smoke wasn't appearing behind him, he was moving so quickly. He hated the feeling and the thoughts that were currently going through his head. How could he allow himself to put her in such peril? Splitting up was always a terrible idea and it tripled in stupidity when one person didn't have years of training in the department of self-defense. All he could think about was how badly he wanted to train her and how even worse he wanted the opportunity to be able to do just that.

           He finally got to the door and felt a soft smile already forming at the realness that he was there. Of course, it was completely wiped from his face and replaced with an earth-shattering sensation that accumulated every feeling in his body. The sounds of a gunshot behind a closed door can do that.

           The door unlocked and opened and Felicity emerged with a terrified expression drawn into every beautiful detail of her face. It was obvious she was too shaken up to cry, but she still dropped the gun on the floor in disgust.

           "Got her in the knee."

            All he wanted to do was take her in his arms and swing her around whilst pressing the biggest, most life-affirming kisses on every corner of her being, just to assure she was there and she was safe. He did part of that with no abandon, rushing towards her and pulling her into a tight squeeze. He buried his face into her neck and breathed her in for just a moment, even if she wasn't his to revel in. She was living and it was okay. He didn't know what to say when her arms tightened around him as well, more than accepting his embrace. She let out a large sigh that he assumed was designed to cover her panic.

           He pulled back and looked into her bright eyes with amazement and said the first thing that came to his mind. "10/24/12. That's the day we met." 


	11. Close Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity attend dinner with The Howard's and the suspicion towards their so called "friends" only grows when some behavior change takes place.

           "So to summarize: you guys found Francesca in a well-furnished room in the basement of the country club, she's there because she's actually hiding from the Falcone's, the FBI technically has jurisdiction over this case, anyone in this town could be affiliated with the Falcone's, and the reason we have a target on our backs is because the Falcone's think Oliver is affiliated with their rivals aka the Maroni's?" Felicity stood with her hands on her hips as the four of them all sat in the bedroom with music playing and the TV on.

           "And Francesca and Al are not, in fact, banging." Roy pointed. "Don't forget that critical detail."

           "Other than that, I'd say you put all together pretty accurately." Diggle nodded. "How are you feeling, by the way?"

           "Well, I've had worse weeks." She shrugged. It was true, too. She just couldn't pinpoint which was the worst. That didn't mean she would ever change a thing. An easier life wasn't necessarily a happier one and she felt a real sense of fulfillment working with her guys. They were a team and that made her part of something bigger than herself. Sometimes she had to lean back and think about that to get a grip on reality and process the damage around them.

           Oliver didn't seem convinced. He looked on edge, standing near the doorway as if someone was about to come bursting in and he would serve as the line of security. His eyes were fierce and his jaw was tense. Normally, she'd attempt to get him to lighten up, but she knew better than to pry when he was in this state of mind. The man would only be pushed deeper into his own personal cloud of darkness. Still, when his eyes would meet directly with hers, there would be a brief flicker of softness in them. The reminder that she was living and not dead with a bullet in her head certainly had an illuminating effect on him.

           "I just don't understand why you were always a target. What connection do you even have to the Falcone's? I know you were involved with the Russian mafia, in fact, I'm pretty sure you are  _still_ somewhat involved with those gentlemen, but I've looked through everything and they aren't connected the Maroni's or Falcone's at all... In any way. The groups pretty much stay out of each other's way."

           He closed his eyes and sighed. "My father and Malcolm Merlyn used to do business with a Maroni. The only reason I remember is because I had a... thing with his daughter. It didn't end well. I didn't know what was the relative of a crime boss."

           She tried her best not to roll her eyes. When didn't Oliver's past somehow link to some gorgeous, sexually charged/starved woman that despite dire situations, all somehow managed to live these big sexual fantasies. It wasn't that she was mad, because she didn't have any right to belittle the man for his past (he does that enough for everyone) but seriously, did  _one_ woman ever tell him no? Was he the most accessible man in the world? 

           "Merlyn and your Dad are both dead, though." Roy interjected. "How are we supposed to find out what their private discussions were over?"

           "As much as I don't need to be reminded of that-" Oliver started with a pointed look at the younger man. "You're not wrong. I think it's safe to say the only way we'll ever know is if we track down the actual Maroni's."

           "Uh, Oliver? Do we really want to bring the Capulet's and the Montague's together after years of radio silence?"

           He stared blankly at her and blinked twice in confusion. 

           "Romeo and Juliet, Oliver! Would you rather I'd said the Sharks and the Jets?"

           "What?"

           "Okay, seriously, you're getting that movie/tv show list as soon as possible." She shook her head in disdain. "What I'm trying to explain is that this is the closest to truce these two groups have gotten? Do we really want to start all that up?"

           "She's right, man. It'll be a bloodbath." 

           "Well, maybe that's what we need, Dig. Look, the FBI are clearly trying to draw the Falcone's out by bringing in the Maroni's. I say we follow suit, but we move things along a bit quicker."

           "How are we gonna move quicker than the FBI?" 

           "We have something they don't have." Oliver placed a hand on Felicity's shoulder. "If anyone can track someone down, it's you."

           She bit her lip. "Okay, one last question." 

           "Shoot."

           "I did, earlier." She smirked and then winced, thinking about how she had to wrestle Ms. Beat for the gun and it went off against her knee during the struggle. She groaned even more when she remembered she'd apologized to the woman afterwards even though she'd been trying to kill her. Felicity just really hated using weapons unless she absolutely had to. She figured this merited that decision.

           "Why are we trying to beat the FBI at anything? Why did Lance put us up to this? I mean, we know  _why_ , but we don't know why he won't just let the proper authorities handle it. Especially when we are essentially using the same plan as them."

           "We should definitely contact him." Oliver agreed and turned to Diggle and Roy. "I'm actually going to ask you guys to do that."

           "Why?" Roy asked.

           "Well, we have a date..." 

           Both men raised their eyebrows in astonishment. "What?"

           "We're getting together with the Howard's for dinner." Oliver spoke as if nothing he was saying was out of the ordinary. "I really hope we go out."

           "Me too. I swear the people here use so much butter in their cooking that one day when I'm dead and getting an autopsy, they're just going to find an entire stick in my cholesterol. Plus, I want to wear a dress tonight."

            "Let me know what color you end up wearing. I've recently realized I have a tie in essentially every color."

            "Recently? Your side of the closet looks like a big rainbow."

            "At least I don't have 1000 little containers of nail polish all over the place. Talk about a rainbow."

            "I never use yellow." She pointed and he only chuckled. 

           Roy and Diggle were still watching them in shock. Oliver and Felicity became self-aware of their two friends' stares and looked back in a confused manner.

           "What are you two looking at?"

           "Oh nothing. We're just pissed you guys didn't invite us to the actual wedding." Diggle moved past their dumbfounded expressions. "We're going to go talk to Lance. Catch you later, Queen's."

           "They've totally banged." Roy announced the second the door was shut.

*****************************************************************************************************************************************

           "Hi, there, folks!" Sandy and Chet stood to greet Oliver and Felicity, who strode into  _Alessandro's_ essentially attacked at the hip. "And you're matching! That's adorable. My oh my, Felicity Queen you look beautiful in that color. What is that?"

           She still found herself getting caught of guard when people here referred to her as "Felicity Queen", but she'd be a liar to say she didn't like the sound of it.

           "Violet." She smiled and immediately reached out to take a sip of water, but paused before consuming the liquid. Her trust in this society was abysmal at best, but after almost being shot by Ms. Beats (who was being kept silent at the SCPD), she was extra on edge. The tricky part was trying not to seem on-edge.

           "You okay there?" Chet squawked.

           "Oh, yeah. The water's just cold." She shrugged and then pointed to her teeth. "I have sensitive teeth."

           "Sure are pretty though." He twinkled and Oliver felt his jaw clenching at the context behind the comment. Everyone here, whether they were a Falcone or not, was all about sleeping with one another and because Felicity was the newest item on the menu, and slightly unattainable, she was the most desired to be tasted. She would never know how much that made his teeth grit against each other.

           "Oh Chet, you big flirt." She tried sounding flattered, but being creeped out wasn't an easy thing to wash away entirely.

           Oliver gently took Felicity's hand and soon the waiter came around to take their orders.

           "I'll have Veal Parm with a side of spaghetti. Please." Oliver nodded.

           "Me too!" Felicity folded her menu and placed it on the table, earning a surprised stare from Sandy. Her eyes were going from Felicity's down to her stomach and back up to her eyes again. It was clear she didn't approve.

           "I'll have the chicken caesar salad. No dressing." Sandy sat up in her chair like she was this high and mighty goddess that deserved all the accolades in the world for flattering the ideal that to be beautiful and adored, you had to be skinny. To do that, you apparently had to get dry lettuce whilst dining at a five-star Italian restaurant. 

           "I'll have the Tour of Italy."

           "Are you sure, sir? That's supposed to serve four people." The waiter asked politely.

           "If you want a good tip, you'll bring me the damn plate." Chet began loosening his belt in preparation. 

           Sandy rolled her eyes at her husband before turning back to the couple before her in desperation to not have all her focus on them. For once, Felicity couldn't blame her. Chet was pretty gross, like  _barn animal_ gross and she was unsure how those two even ended up together.

           "So, Felicity, I noticed you're not drinking any wine, plus you're certainly eating for two..." She wiggled her eyebrows and even though Felicity wasn't married or currently participating in a steady sexual relationship, the implication still made her want to crawl under the clothed table with a basket of breadsticks and never return to the light of day. It wasn't that she didn't want kids, because that would depend on the person she ended up with, if she ended up with anyone, but the idea of having them and other people wanting her to have them scared her shitless.

           "Nope." Her lips popped and she felt a bit of pride to see the disappointment on the other woman's face. "We aren't trying right now."

           "Amen! Keepin' it wrapped!" Chet reached across the table to fist-bump Oliver, which was awkwardly and slowly returned. 

           Sandy pouted. "What are you two waiting for? You've both got jobs, you're living in a happy-healthy neighborhood-"

            _Okay, first of all, Oliver is unemployed, I work at a glorified Best Buy, we are not married, and this place is NOT happy nor healthy by any standard._

"And you're in love!" She smiled wistfully and the way she talked gave Felicity the impression that despite initial attempts to convey the opposite, Sandy never experienced true love or much close to it. Was it because she had fallen into this marriage with Chet late in the game? Because he had money? Because she very well could have been forced into it by the Falcone's? Who knows?

           "That we are." Oliver smiled adoringly at her and she had to admit, the gaze made her heart leap. To be on the receiving end of a passionate gaze from those enchanting blue eyes made her insides bubble creatively and warmth control her body.

           "When did you first realize you two were in love?" Felicity asked curiously.

           "Oh, Chet used to lavish me in gifts. Chet was in the waiting room and just kept coming back, didn't you, sweetie?"

           Cue grunt of agreement.

           "She wasn't as loud back then." He offered. "A lot thinner."

           Sandy's smile faltered and her eyebrows knit together. "I could say the same about you. You also weren't a raging alcoholic."

           "You're an alcoholic! You turned me into one."

           By the way they were downing drinks, it seemed they both were up for that title.

           Oliver cleared his throat. "So you're from New York. What do you do for a living, Chet?"

           "I do more... Under the table jobs." He shrugged. "Pays better. Why pay taxes, anyway?"

           Felicity bit her tongue from going into  _that_ argument. Getting political was never a good idea, especially with a rich, drunk, white misogynist who might be trying to kill your husband... Er, fake-husband.

           "And what do  _you_ do now that your company is down, Oliver?"

           "I'm actually doing government work." Oliver thought quickly. The ones that weren't total lies were always the easiest to tell.

           "And Felicity?"

           "Still a tech girl." She replied simply. 

           "Like a Playboy nerd." Chet licked his lips.

           Oliver really wanted the food to come so he could dump Chet's four-serving meal on his head.

           "Not unless you think sitting in your pajamas getting finger-cramps is hot."

           "And by pajamas, I'm assuming you mean  _nothing at all_ , right?"

           "No." She glared. "Like big, baggy checkered pajamas."

           "You're killing my vibe, sweetheart."

           "Chet, this is not one of  _those_ meetings." Sandy scolded and gulped down the rest of her wine. "We are here to talk about love!"

           "Alright, when did she take away something you loved? Sandy took away my pride. I loved my pride."

           "How'd that happen?" Oliver asked despite Sandy's persistent glare. She glanced down at her phone to avoid the topic and Oliver would have felt bad for bringing it up if she wasn't potentially out to murder him and Felicity.

           "It's a gradual thing. She made me go shopping, take her to dinner instead of going to games, trade in my car, but her a house, give oral, the whole nine yards."

           A lot of that stuff just sounded like normal activities and Oliver and Felicity waited for things to get really bad, but they never did. No, Chet went on to complain about all the things Sandy asked him to do and maybe that's why she looked away. What had them most baffled was how awful they were to each other. They were so much kinder and gentler at the beginning of the week, What changed?

           Oliver and Felicity arrived.

           This was an act. 

           Oliver hurriedly began tapping morse code into Felicity's bare thigh, which she didn't recognize at first, due to the sheer overwhelming sensation of having his large, warm hands stroking her upper thigh. When she realized he wasn't just copping a random feel, she forced herself to pay attention to what he was saying.

            _We have to go._

           "Yeah, the love goes real fast."

           "Doesn't sound very "husbandly" to me." 

           "You come into this town and all the women want you, but you'll become just like the rest of us. You're just blind by love right now. Love doesn't last."

           Maybe Chet was drunk.

           "What Chet  _means_ is... Obviously this town is full of people trying to rebuild their relationships, but the question is why are a couple of in-love beauties like yourselves here? I mean, you two seem like you've got everything figured out, which I suppose is the innocence of it, but you haven't even faced challenges yet." She raised her hands in defense. "Not that we don't love having you here."

           Oliver wanted to laugh at the accusation that they hadn't faced any challenges. They weren't even a real couple and they've taken down more adversaries than people who'd been married for 20 years. The biggest one right now being that they had to leave. Call it a sheer strike of paranoia, but Sandy kept checking her phone, Chet kept feeling a suspicious baggy in his pocket, and the two were suddenly very drunk. It was all to perfect.

           Felicity was suspicious too and growing a bit antsy beside him.

            Oliver cleared his throat. "Honestly, after my mother died I've been looking at things differently. I need to grasp life by the hand. I made the right step in asking Felicity to marry me, but that's not enough. To become a changed man, I need to heal as a person, crush my demons once and for all. She stands by me through whatever I need to just that, because I'm not alone anymore. Honey, are you okay?"

           He lifted his hand to Felicity's forehead. "You look really flushed. You're burning up."

           She threw a fake cough in there, which she'd been doing her best to improve upon, and leaned into his touch.

            She didn't get time to respond though, because Sandy was suddenly sobbing.

            "I did a bad thing." 

           "You cheat again?" Chet snapped.

            _Again?_ Felicity mouthed at Oliver, who looked just as confused and wide-eyed as she probably did.

           Sandy shook her head.

           "Well, out with it!"

           "I called-" Before she could finish her sentence and entire swarm of paparazzi flew through the doors, ignoring all codes and permission necessary to do so. The poor boy that was carrying their food was trampled altogether, food tray hitting the floor with a sorrowful  _clang!_ Cameramen were snapping blinding pictures everywhere. It was to the point where one could mistakes the room for possessing a strobe light. Shouts and clicks went all around and it took a few second for Oliver and Felicity to even react. 

           Oliver pulled off his jacket and quickly threw it over Felicity's head before pictures could be snapped of her face. He wrapped an arm around her before shoving his way through the crowd and forcing cameramen off and to the ground. A few cried out that he'd hurt them, but he really didn't care all that much. Felicity blindly let Oliver lead her, feeling quite thumped around for a little while, but eventually the cool night broke her nerves and they were clearly in the car.

           "Don't take the jacket off yet." He murmured. "Not until we're inside the house."


	12. Kiss of Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first battle of an impending war arrives at Team Arrow's front doorstep.

           Since he believed he was talking to the Green Arrow, Roy and Diggle simply used the voice modulator that Oliver always utilized while talking to Lance and the other minority of people that didn't know his secret. They practiced sounding gruff and stubborn before calling, but they'd never mention that to Oliver, at least not in a sober state of mind.           

           "Hey, what do you have? I just saw the news and that Queen and Felicity were almost caught. Why can't Smoak's identity be revealed again?" Lance asked. "She seems more than capable of handling a little media attention."

           Diggle caught himself before saying the "Green Arrow" seemingly in the third person. "I, personally, don't want Miss Smoak to be put at greater risk than necessary. The last thing we need is to put a target on her back in attempts to get revenge at Oliver Queen. The city doesn't exactly love his namesake."

           "I see." He trailed off. "So, you're sweet on her, aren't you? I'm sure you're loving watching her and Queen be all lovey dovey."

           Diggle and Roy exchanged a knowing look and Roy rolled his eyes. He covered the phone for a moment.

           "They're so obvious even a dude who hasn't had a date in this century can see it."

           Diggle chuckled before raising the phone. "I'd say that's irrelevant, Captain."

           "You haven't killed anyone, have you? I'm putting a lot of trust in you guys going in there."

           "There was one shooting, but no death."

           "Shooting?"

           "Felicity was in a predicament that required self-defense."

           "She shot a person?"

           "Do yourself a favor and don't underestimate her."

           "Okay, well, how's her lovely husband? Laurel and Sara would kill me if anything happened to Queen."

           "Mr. Queen is fine. He and Felicity have been settled in their house and have been accepted into the neighborhood. We've acquired a lot more information since we've last spoken to you."

           "You mean since the sex-party."

           "Right." Diggle went on to explain everything about the rivalry between the Falcone's and the Maroni's and how Francesca and the FBI were trying to draw out the rest of the Falcone's by staging a kidnapping to appear as if the Maroni's were responsible. 

           "You usually don't give me this much information." He finally grumbled after the final pieces of information fell into the air. "What's the catch?"

           "The catch, Captain, is that you've been withholding from us. The authorities are more than knee-deep in this investigation. They have the same game plan as we do. All we're doing by leaving Oliver and Felicity in the field is putting their lives at further and unnecessary risk." He meant it too, because being undercover for an extensive period of time was dangerous from all ends. It was easy to start blurring lines and forget to stay in character. Perhaps it would be easier for Oliver, but Felicity hasn't done anything like this in... ever.

           "You can't leave it to the Feds. That doesn't sound like you. You never leave cases to us!"

           "I just want to know why you so desperately want us to break down this organization. I understand that your brother fell to the Falcone's but that doesn't mean we can start being reckless with other people's lives. This is dangerous and if the FBI finds out we are illegally involved, Oliver, Felicity, and all of you are getting jail-time. I really don't want to have to break anyone out of prison."

           Lance felt his mouth go dry. "Look, there are rumors... Whispers, even that the FBI have been infiltrated by some of these organized crime bosses. It's only been quiet between the two of them, because they've been silently approaching a war for years. I know the guy who's leading the investigation. Mario Ninck. He's bad news, but he's so slimy that he hasn't been caught for a damn thing. He's been arrested numerous times for various police crimes, but he's gotten off on every one. If the Maroni's or the Falcone's have claimed the Feds then we are screwed. I need to get to them before they take the courts too. If I can lead them into daylight, they're done for."

           Diggle and Roy let that set in. "What can we do?"

           "Find out who's working with the Falcone's and let me worry about the FBI. We can't let this bloodbath happen or cities are going to be destroyed."

           "We should probably leave the destruction in Starling, right?"

           "Right."

*************************************************************************************************************************************

           A soft knock came at the bedroom door and Felicity slid out of bed to open and see Oliver on the other side. She shouldn't have been surprised, given that they were the only two people that occupied the house, but that didn't stop the wave of incredulity that fluttered through her. She also didn't let herself forget that it was well past 1 am and the two were due to wake up early and stake on the neighborhood in a few hours. She didn't feel tired in the slightest anymore and looked up at the tower of a man through curious eyes that brought dimples to his cheeks in response.

           "I'm sorry to wake you." He said sincerely. "I just... I wanted to talk about... I couldn't sleep."

           She nodded and urged him past the threshold, which felt foreign and familiar all in the same step. It shouldn't feel like the ladder, because they'd never crossed this zone under any circumstances. Still, it seemed like they should have and in that way it was warm and welcomed.

           "What's up?" God, you'd think they stumbled into each other at an ice cream parlor instead of sharing the same house in a volatile neighborhood.

           He hesitated before sitting beside her on the bed. "I'm crazy worried about you."

           Felicity couldn't help but internally wish he'd taken the "worried" part out of the sentence and that their chat could become a whole lot more progressive instead of borderline repetitive. It was frustrating, having him invade her every thought and fill her with such hope and love but be so afraid of those very too things. She tried to convince herself that everything had been just a plan. She was his friend and he did what he had to do to take down Slade. However, the honesty of his eyes and fear in his quiet breaths made her think otherwise. She revisited that moment on numerous occasions and each time she only grew more doubt and certainty. Doubt in their platonic circumstances and certainty in her own hopes and desires that at once seemed like a distant dream.

           "I'm not the one with a target on my back." She whispered.

           "Yeah, but because of me you will be. Once the media catches drift of who you are, which after today makes me think they definitely will, you'll be in more danger than ever."

           "And that's  _my_ choice to make."

           "Felicity-"

           "I know letting go is hard for you." She took his hands in hers. "Sometimes it's impossible for me to let you go into that field. I feel sick to my stomach thinking about you not being okay. I know deep in my heart that you wouldn't be the same if you didn't give yourself to protecting what you love, trying to make a difference in the city. I know I can't stop you from putting on that hood and honestly? I wouldn't want to. You and I are fighters, Oliver. Albeit, we have different tactics, but fighters nonetheless. We make tough calls and that's what we do. You need to let me do the same."

           He stared at her in wonder. "You're amazing."

           It was such an open, honest, un-Oliver-like comment that it winded her, paralyzed her reactions for a moment. She didn't go off on an embarrassing tangent nor did she start choking on her own tongue. She just blinked and felt her own lips gliding upwards. Her heart became noticeably more active when he started to lean in. It was a moment that felt frozen in time despite his slow approach. She followed his lead and tilted her head up for better access and her eyes fluttered shut as their noses gently bumped into each other. His soft breath was on her lips and she yearned to feel his stubble prickle her face.

          His lips ghosted over hers but didn't meet their desired destination when a cacophonous banging at the front door echoed through the entire house.

           "Under the bed." Oliver ordered wasting no time in getting to his feet. "I'll be right back."

           She slid under the bed, tablet at hand as she quickly found the security footage to their place. When she realized who it was, she climbed out from her hiding position and raced down the steps shortly after Oliver. 

           "Oliver! It's just the FBI-"

           The all-too recognizable sound of a gun went off and Oliver hit the floor with a loud thud. She stared in horror as tears automatically streamed down his face from the pain of being shot point-blank. His chest rose and fell quickly in desperation and she was taken back to many moons ago when she'd stitched him up in the once-dingy foundry. She barely knew him then and she still felt the crack in her chest at his lifeless and bleeding form. Now, that he'd grown so special to her, it was like a jackhammer was attacking her very core, shaking her relentlessly. 

           Her eyes rose to the attacker, a man with slicked back hair and an FBI jacket. His eyes were black as night and a silver tooth glinted in the low lighting. She couldn't find the appropriate emotion to settle with. There was the instant fear that seemed to hold her still on the steps, the anger that made her fists clench until they were white as chalk, and the remorse she felt in response to Oliver's dramatic tumble backwards. He had to get help immediately.

           "The Falcone's always get their man, sweetheart."

           He pointed the gun at her too, but it jammed and he stared back at her in a brief moment of conflict. She was sure there were multiple other ways they could kill her, but the time wasn't great and they didn't want any evidence at the scene.

           "Looks like fate was on your side. No matter, we'll be gone before you can save your precious husband anyway."

           They walked out and she wasted no time in calling the police and the paramedics before running to Oliver's side and propping his head in her lap. He heaved and tried to form what she assumed was a smile. She grabbed an old t-shirt and tried to soak up the blood and stop the bleeding as best as she could, wincing when he whimpered against her touch. 

           "You're going to be okay." She willed herself not to cry, but it was inevitable.

           "I've had worse." He tried, but he only shivered at the cold that was falling over him. "It's just a flesh wound."

           She was amazed that even as he laid on the steps, bleeding out from his abdomen, that he was still trying to make her feel better and protect her. All she wanted was to do the same for him. She pressed harder into the wound.

           "I'm sorry." She cringed. "I-I'm so sorry."

           "Felicity, you have nothing to be sorry for." His eyes wandered across her face and she wished she had her medical kit with her. She wished she could lay him out and patch him up, but as prepared as they'd been, they were not ready for something like this. Oliver was the target all along and she didn't think to bring life or death medical supplies? She focused too much on the mission, lost herself in it, that she didn't stay truly focused on what was at risk. He was fleeing from her grasp despite physically remaining from it, and it only raised a howl from her throat.

           "Oliver... Please." She begged.

           "Felicity... The business with Slade..." He trailed off, fluttering in and out of consciousness. "What I... The unthinkable..."

           Her tears gently dampened his shirt as she waited for him to finish his sentence. He never did and his eyes closed. She let out a harsh sob and willed for help to arrive immediately. 

           "Oliver?" She felt for his pulse and breathed a bit easier to discover it was still there. "Hey, please... Please don't go."

           She leaned forward and delicately placed her lips on his, stroking his hair as she squeezed her eyes closed and rested her forehead on his. 

           She couldn't lose him. He promised her long ago that she wouldn't and she intended on helping him hold to that. Her tearful eyes kept glancing down to him, who was wheezing beside her, filling her bones with dread.

           Promises were not made to be broken. 

 

 


	13. Bowling is Not the Answer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Oliver's fate still lingering in the air, the rest of the team wastes no time in trying to track down his attacker.

           Everything in the following couple hours  appeared to happen in brief flashes of time. All noises transmitted as if they were on the inside of a fishbowl. Doctors picked and prodded and asked questions to her slow-moving brain. Slow motion was her default setting even though the ambulence was racing down the street at record breaking speeds. All that resonated was the frequent and sharp beeping that never quit. It felt like the blink of an eye before they were forcefully separating her from Oliver's side and dragging him down an unknown hallway. A doctor or nurse, she couldn't be sure, was speaking to her, trying to be sure if she sustained any wounds of her own. Before she could breathe, it seemed the conversation was over. 

           She slunk down the wall and missed the seat she half-heartedly aimed to meet. Her butt hit the cold tile with a slight jerk, but she didn't make anything of it. A nurse approached her, bearing blue scrubs in her hands. Her mouth was moving, but it felt like she was speaking from a mile away. Without understanding the context, Felicity took the scrubs and placed them beside her. The explanation was clear if anyone took a second to take a gander at Felicity's blood-soaked clothes. She lifted her hands to see him all over her. She could only feel lightning bolts of images spiraling across her brain.

           He'd fallen so hard. His words pooled around her in soaked her bones. His eyes that were once so full of light, faded like a weak match. 

           She clutched her knees to her chest and rubbed her forehead against the denim. There had to be a way to shield the luminescence of the hallway, shut out the loud and distant calls, and forget the reverberation of gunfire that looped through her psyche. The foul smell of blood clouded her nostrils as she began to feel a grasp on the accelerated reality. The weight of waiting seemed endless and she fully tilted her head back to try and distribute the burden

           "Felicity!" A hasty voice rushed to her side, grasping at her stomach and feeling desperately for wounds. 

           She wasn't sure who it was, but she felt her heavy limbs shove them off in a weak attempt at defending herself. "Stop it."

           "You're hurt."

           "It's not my blood." She scrubbed her stained hands across her face. "It's not my blood."

           That's what she'd said to the paramedics when they helped her onto the ambulance beside Oliver. She'd been sobbing incoherently then. They had to put her on oxygen for a bit so she retained oxygen and didn't pass out. Now, she sat like an icecube, destined to melt, but refusing to burst into another series of uncontrollable discharge. She didn't even look over at the person beside her, who was trying to bring her back to earth, because she wanted no such help.

           "Felicity, what happened?"

           She shook her head. "The Falcone's."

           "Where's Oliver?"

           She nodded towards the direction of which he was taken and a strong arm pulled her to her feet before she was even aware what was happening. She was turned to face John Diggle and Roy Harper bent over and grabbed the spare change of clothes.

           "He's going to be okay, right?"

           "They didn't... I don't know." She felt tears peak at the edge of her eyes again, but this time they burned. They felt like wildfire and more than anything did she want to fight back at the force that reckoned with them, that shot in the midst of the night. This was a war, not a singular battle. She knew what those implications meant, but she was willing to go through with them. 

           "Let's get you dressed." Roy handed her the scrubs. "Then, we track these son of a bitches."

           She climbed into a storage closet and began stripping herself from the stained garbs she'd never wear again. She tugged the soft scrubs over her head and stood in the dark for a moment, allowing herself to catch her breath from the series of events that preceded this very second. Sure, it probably wasn't a good idea to chose a closet full of cleaning supplies to take a breather, but her lungs demanded of it. She massaged her temples, forcing this painful wound to temporarily disappear. She'd address it later after Oliver was confirmed alive and all of this was over. She'd face these horrors in recurring dreams. The Falcone's would join the likes of Deathstroke, Count Vertigo, and Malcolm Merlyn in her nightmare fanclub. 

           After one last puff of worry, she twisted the doorknob and emerged determined and steely-eyed.

           "Someone has to stay here in case he gets out. He shouldn't be alone." Diggle sighed. "Do we call Thea?"

           "No way am I mixing her up in this mob business." 

           "You're right. That'll just be another target on their backs."

           "There's Laurel."

           "Oliver wouldn't want her involved either."

           "Sara?"

           "Sara... Can defend herself. That is for sure." 

           "I'm dialing her number now. I think she owes me one for almost killing me a few months back."

           "I have an idea." Felicity finally proposed. "Oliver wouldn't like it."

           "Oliver is unconscious."

           Hopefully that's all he was. She internally shook away the returning chills up her spine and focused.

           "One of you needs to dress in the Arrow suit. The other needs to get Lance and his crew to back me up."

           "You?" Diggle hissed. "Felicity, we are  _not_ offering you up."

           "Relax, I'm not Oliver. This isn't some self-sacrificial plan."

           "Felicity, a minute ago you were staring into space covered in dry blood. There's still blood on your hands."

           "I'll wash them, obviously. Just get me Lance and trust me. I think I know who the inside Falcone is."

           "And they'll lead us to the others."

           "And you guys can kick butt."

           "Okay, where do we start?"

           "We start... with a pasta dish."

*******************************************************************************************************************************

 

           Felicity smoothed her pink polka-dotted sundress down as she climbed out of the car. She balanced the food plate on her other hand and clicked towards the Howard's front door. Chet answered and the second he laid eyes on her, the cigar he'd nestled between his upper and lower teeth dropped to their feet. She looked down as he quickly stomped at it and trapped the muck beneath his brown slippers.

           "Sweet pea, I knew you'd come along." He grinned. "You're not still mad about that incident at the restaurant, right? I'd hate to find out you were just teasing me."

           "I'm actually here to see your wife."

           "My wife?"

           "Yes, is she home?"

           "No, she went out for a ladies night a couple of hours ago. She should be back any minute."

           "Uhuh. Well, can you give this to her when she comes back? She seemed really stressed and like she was unable to cook for the next couple of days."

           "Why's that?"

           Felicity leaned in. "Rumor has it, you two are planning for the big D."

           "I can show  _you_ the big D too if you want."

           She outwardly scowled. It was hard to maintain pleasantries when Chet had the emotional and intellectual range of half a carton of sour milk. He never seemed to notice her change in behavior. Instead, he pushed it under the rug and intensified his attempts. 

           "Divorce, Chet."

           "Divorce?" He began laughing, hysterically even. "Where did your pretty little ears hear that?"

           "Everyone is talking about it."

           "Everyone, huh?"

           "Everyone."

           Chet reached yanked his brown coat off the back of the door. "I'll show her. C'mon, we're going to get her."

           "I'll follow you." She decided driving with them was bad news. She'd be asking for murder in that case. She climbed back into the car and followed as the reckless man swerved through town.

           "Jesus, Felicity, is he drunk?" Lance growled over the comm link. 

           "Now really isn't the time to get him for a DUI, Detective."

           "-Captain."

           "Right."

           He finally stopped when he got to the local town bowling alley. Chet left his car door open as he stumbled into the main entrance.

           "Okay, guys, this might be where it goes down, so get ready."

           "I don't like this."

           "The second we trap them, the easier they are to grab and use for information."

           "Be careful."

           She nodded as if he could see that and followed Chet into the bowling alley. When she entered, it took all of two seconds to see the man chucking a bowling ball across the room and into the wall.

           "WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE'S NOT HERE?" He screamed at who Felicity recognized to be Marie Day. 

           "She said she was pulling extra shifts at the hospital." She answered meekly. 

           "BULLSHIT. WHERE IS SHE? WHERE THE HELL IS MY WIFE?" Security had already begun to pull Chet away, but she didn't pay much mind to it.

           Felicity furrowed her brow before rushing over to them. "Sandy works at the hospital?"

           "Yeah, the trauma unit. Usually, she doesn't work tonight, but she was apparently called in for an emergency."

           " _Chet was in the waiting room_..." Crap. She did work at a hospital.

           A different string of panic rose in her chest as she, too, felt the desire to throw a bowling ball through a wall for her own stupidity. 

           "Uhoh."

           "Felicity?" Diggle's voice was wary. "What?"

           She stepped away from the bamboozled ladies and back towards her car at a hasty pace. "Good news and bad news."

           "Good news is: Chet and Sandy aren't working with the Falcone's."

           "Bad news?"

           "Just Sandy is. Would you like the worst news?"

           "I didn't know that was an option." Roy gritted.

           "She's a nurse or a doctor at the hospital and probably has some pull over whether or not Oliver is going to be okay."

           "We're on our way to the hospital." Lance turned on his sirens. "Your husband is going to be alright. This wouldn't be a bad time for your green boyfriend to show up, though."

           

 

 


	14. Bad Day Gone Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All they need to do is rescue Oliver and take down an major criminal organization... No big deal.

           By the time Sara arrived at the scene, the rest of Team Arrow (and Laurel) were already impatiently pacing around the waiting room with just about the entire SCPD and FBI. Why the hell would they need her help when they have everyone and their brother here? They hadn't given her much information on the matter, just that it was possible that the venomous Falcone's and Maroni's were drifting to the surface again. She had a run-in with them once, but luckily it was rather subdued to only a few of them. They had people in high places and weren't to be taken lightly or underestimated.

           She decided to approach Laurel first, who welcomed her with a tearful bear hug. "Ollie's been shot Sara. Felicity thinks one of the nurses is going to sabotage his surgery, but they can't find her name here."

           "Maybe she doesn't work here, then." Sara tried, but she knew it was more likely that she changed her name or stole the ID off of someone else in order to limit Oliver's risks of survival.

           "They can't let anyone in until his surgery is over. I guess they don't want to run the risk of increasing the damage. Dad even called the Feds to try and get them to let him in there, but there's a code of conduct that can't be broken for anyone unless more substantial evidence is given."

           Sara nodded and walked over to a frazzled Team Arrow. Felicity immediately hugged her as well, and despite the circumstances, Sara felt a smile tugging at her lips to see the energetic blonde. Felicity had that way about her, even if she, herself, was upset.

           "Thank you for coming." She muttered into her shoulder.

           She shrugged. "I get a few vacation days."

           "We're afraid it's too late." Diggle massaged his temples. "We all should have intervened the moment we suspected those creeps."

           "You did your best. You had to preserve your covers and you managed to figure out who the Falcone's contact is."

           "The story is a whole lot crazier than that." Roy groaned and slumped into a chair. "The FBI is protecting two Falcone's that have been snitching on their family's whereabouts in exchange for protection from their family."

           "They're supposed to be the next heirs to the throne, so to speak." Felicity added.

           "So they've been hiding out here as a "witness protection" kind of thing, but the Falcone's have developed some insiders to get them. Then, the FBI staged a kidnapping to make it seem like the Maroni's were involved. In reality, they just want to draw the Falcone's into the light of day."

           "Then, some of the Falcone's in the FBI came to our house and shot Oliver point blank." 

           "Are any of them here?" Sara asked.

           She shook her head. "No, I analyzed the video camera footage and honed in on one of their badges... Fake."

           "So they're not in the FBI?"

           "I don't..." Felicity paused as she stared off at the lead officer, who was currently yelling at Detective Lance for being so negligent and illegally involving himself in a federal case. He wasn't necessarily wrong on paper, but the way the man was flying off the handle in a hospital was uncalled for. She also overheard some sharply pointed comments about Lance's brother and how he'd be disappointed in him. She narrowed her eyes at the badge and his name and looked back to the curious squad she'd been chatting with.

           "The Falcone's aren't." She said quietly and looked up. "The Falcone's never were. The Maroni's, on the other hand, are."

           "How do you know?"

           "When you guys told me about the FBI wanting to draw the Falcone's out, I was wondering why, especially if the Falcone's were involved. And why would they want a major mob war to take place? They wouldn't. They're in hiding for a reason. They like to quietly intimidate and take out who they suspect to be with the Maroni's in private. The Falcone's want the war private, but the Maroni's don't. They want a chance to climb back on top."

           "And you figured that all out in like, ten seconds?" Roy cocked an eyebrow.

           "Well, that and the fact that the leading officer, Mario Ninck, scrambled around spells "Nick Maroni" as clear as day."

           "That's some Harry Potter shit."

           "Indeed it is." She nodded and looked to Sara. "I'm going to need you to take him out and find out what he knows."

           Sara shrugged. "I'm more into girls these days, but I'll give it a shot."

           "We need to get back and see Oliver." Diggle affirmed. "Felicity, can you make us fake IDs?"

           "I'm having a major college flashback right now."

           "Roy, go steal some scrubs."

           "Now I'm having major flashbacks right now."

*****

 

           Even in the hazy consciousness that currently controlled him, Oliver was pretty sure it was weird to be left completely alone in a room with a nurse on the operating table. He couldn't be sure if he was just seeing things, but it seemed everyone else in the room lay dead to the world across the floor. It could have been the drugs, because they did make everything seem like a terribly filmed indie horror movie. The bright beam of light practically blinded him whenever his eyes drifted upwards, but the crazy vision of a wide-eyed, excited nurse hovered over him.

           "Um..." He tried to communicate. 

           "Relax, Ollie, it'll all be over soon." She pulled back her mask and revealed who she was.

           "Sand..."

           "Yes, that's right." She flicked a needle that was filled to the brim in black liquid. 

           "Wha-"

           "Shh shh." She raised her finger to her lips. "I need to end this you handsome fool. This is what you get for being a Maroni."

           Honestly, Oliver really couldn't tell if he was having a nightmare or not at the point. Where was Felicity? Was she okay? Did they take her? Did they hurt her too? His mind buzzed in all directions, but he was also hallucinating, seeing visions of Tommy, his mother, and Shado all floating around. He was sure he saw Slade WIlson grinning in the corner as well, fulling donned in the Deathstroke costume.

           "I told you, you'd fail, kid."

           "Oliver, you've got to snap out of it!" Tommy yelled.

           "Did I die for nothing?" Moira sighed. "I thought you were a hero."

           "Wake up, Oliver. Wake up." Shado urged.

           "You failed, Oliver. And we're going to get your pretty little wife too." Sandy smiled, readying the needle.

           She was about to press the needle into his skin, an act he attempted to prevent by jerking around on the table, but it appeared she had him tied down by every limb. He couldn't even feel the bullet wound in his chest anymore, so lost in the terrifying high that captured him.

           "No!"

           "Oh, yes."

           "No." Another voice came behind her as a large metal pole clunked the back of her head and she tumbled to the floor with ease.

           "That's why you shouldn't monologue." A doctor that looked an awful lot like John Diggle nodded at the unconscious woman.

*****

 

           Everyone was relieved to hear that Oliver was pretty close to fine and the surgery actually went off without a hitch. Roy and Diggle snuck out of the ICU before they could be recognized and Oliver was transported to his own room. The drugs in his system still left him mind-boggled, but he was still excited to see Felicity's bright face when she walked into the room. Even in his inebriated state, he could tell the reason they let her was because everyone still thought they were man and wife. Admittedly, he would be sad when this charade was over simply because that title would no longer be exchanged.

           "I would have gotten you flowers, but apparently not too many florists are open at 2 am." She sat beside him on the bed. 

           "You're okay?" He slurred slowly and her smile only widened.

           "I'm okay." She grinned and took his hands in hers. "I'm just relieved _you're_ okay. You gave me quite a scare."

           "'m sorry. Did we get 'em?"

           "Sara's using some of her "special tactics" to interview some guys. We'll get them all. Sandy is in police custody."

           "Bet Lance is happy."

           "Mhmm." She stroked up and down his arms, feeling him to cherish the fact that he was not the cold, stiff, lifeless person she held on the steps. He was warm and living. He looked adorably disheveled and his lip was jutted out in a natural pout from the drugs. Perhaps his limited state of mind was what made her so comfortable doing this. Then again, she'd grown physically closer to him this week in ways she'd never expected.

           "That nurse was awful." He wrinkled his entire face. "Tried to jab me with jelly."

           She outwardly laughed. "Oh yeah?"

           "I like it better when you play nurse with me. You and your skirts."

           She blushed enough for the both of them, honestly. "My skirts, huh?"

           "I like them, a lot."

           "Noted." She giggled even though she already had her suspicions based on the way she'd recently catch him looking at her.

           "You're so pretty." He said dreamily. "You're prettier than pudding."

           "Oh I don't know about that. Pudding is pretty damn beautiful." She was doing her best to not laugh at him, but it was all so cute her threshold was extremely low.

           "So. Are. You." He poked her nose for emphasis. "And I tried to kiss you."

           "Yeah, you did." Her voice was soft.

           "I still want to. Someday."

           "Okay, I'd like that."

           "Really?"

           "Really. For now, though, I think it's best if you get some sleep." She stood up and leaned forward to kiss his forehead. As she turned to go, despite the fit of emotions she'd been put through, she couldn't erase the huge smile that was plastered across her face. Now all they needed to do was catch the Falcone's and the Maroni's and this day could be written off as a success.

           

 


End file.
